


Beyond the Pitch

by ayokidd



Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: F/F, Falling In Love, PREATH - Freeform, preath endgame
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-24
Updated: 2017-10-14
Packaged: 2019-01-04 16:13:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 38,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12172341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ayokidd/pseuds/ayokidd
Summary: Tobin is recovering from injury and she's confused. She wants to focus on football but Christen is making it very hard. She struggles with trusting herself and others, opening up more than she ever has. It's Tobin's journey in finding balance in her life.This is her path in building a life beyond the pitch





	1. Chapter 1

 [Preath Photo in beyond the pitch ](https://footballer-preath.tumblr.com/post/165671442076/beyond-the-pitch-au)

 

 

They were the last ones in the bar. Their team said their goodbyes hours ago and she still didn’t want to leave; it wasn’t the first time this has happened either. Instigated by her smile, she waged a war with her gut through the night. She should have left with the team. But debuting after 6 months out on injury just yesterday, Tobin wanted to celebrate. Despite it being a short time on the pitch, she thanked God to be back in it. With camps ceasing until mid-October, they will all scramble to their respective cities to fight for the championship. She didn’t plan on staying out this late but she missed this feeling. She missed her.

Being on the U.S. national team as teammates and competitive enemies in club, grapples her insides unrecognizable. It’s always easy to be around her but she hasn’t heard her laugh for the better part of the year. She forgot how much she liked to be the cause of it. They always held each other to the highest competitive level and come next weekend, they face off in the semifinals.

The lights above them brighten to a blinding hue, a signal to get the fuck out, no doubt. They both politely wave to the bartenders as they leave. Slightly annoyed they look up from cleaning to wave back, “bye lovebirds!” Tobin blushes and feels a little guilty they shut the place down but ultimately she doesn’t care. It was a great win yesterday; she’s still riding the high from being on the pitch, playing for her country.

Tangled in each other, laughing, they turn toward the hotel a few blocks away. She loves hanging out with Christen just the two of them. It’s thrilling to be around her, all her senses come alive and she thirsts for it.

“So why have you been avoiding me?” Tobin asks in her momentary braveness.

Christen’s laugh fades into the alley behind them, “What?” she slows to a stop. Tobin’s arm drops off her shoulders as her momentum brings her paces ahead.

The only security Tobin feels is coming from the street lamp above them. Vulnerability never fails to besiege her when around Christen. She turns to face her, all tan and tone, unsure of everything. She answers her own question: maybe it’s because she was distant during her recovery, or she doesn’t enjoy being around her anymore—she doesn’t know. All she knows is that something doesn’t feel right. They only saw each other for a few days at the same clinic in LA when Christen had therapy on her ankles. Tobin thought it was nice but she can’t deny that she avoided her after that. Anything associated with football brought her closer to heartbreak because she couldn’t play the game. So she cut off most of whom she knew and found new meaning in her days. But at camp, she was willing to welcome it all back.

“What do you mean?” Christen awkwardly questions, pulling her sweater to cover her exposed shoulders looking everywhere except at Tobin.

“Come on Chris…” Tobin knows she understands the question. There has been more tension than usual and it’s affecting their on-field chemistry. “You’ve been like this since camp, what—

“No, I haven’t!” Christen squeaks a little louder than she intended. “I-I haven’t been like this since camp…”

Tobin steps closer reaching out for her arm and when she doesn’t pull away she rubs her thumb to soothe her lies away. “Yeah, you have…” she whispers.

Christen finally looks Tobin in the eye and tilts her head, “I guess I just got used to not having you around.” She snaps.

The mood suddenly shifts and Tobin can feel Christen pull away. She drops her hand to her waist feeling the cool air hit her palm.

“Oh.”

Feeling small, Tobin puts her hands in her pockets.

“Put your sweater on if you’re cold…” Christen offers stiffly as she brushes by her toward the hotel.

She’s hurt that Tobin can just drop everyone so easily, especially her. It wasn’t long ago that she began to feel confident around her and believe that they had something more than just comradeship. It could all be in her mind—it must have been.

Tobin stands in the smell that lingers behind her; she always smelt like gardenias and soap. She can’t find the words to fix this moment. It’s not like the distance was about Christen at all. She had to limit her exposure to everyone. It was a spiritual healing as well as physical and she’s convinced that the distance was necessary. She debates on whether to let her go or chase after her.

“Chris!” She decides on the latter and jogs up to her. “Hey…” she catches up and grabs her shoulders to slow her down, “wait please.”

Christen stops and stands tall on the balls of her feet not wanting to appear as weak as she feels.

Tobin is so elated that she actually stopped; she let a small laugh escape her lips. An automatic mistake because Christen scoffs and continues her path to the hotel at an even faster pace.

She curses at herself, “shit—no— Chris wait!”

“Why?!” She turns in a huff, “So you can laugh at me?! You know…I thought—” She shakes her head and turns away.

Tobin catches up, “You thought?”

“Nothing.”

Christen keeps walking with crossed arms as Tobin struggles to broach the subject again but she keeps at Christen’s pace. She needs to offer an explanation or this might escalate into something else entirely. She convinces herself that she needs to fix this for the team.

“Are you upset with me?” Tobin asks softly. She knows the answer already but she tries an easy one to get her talking.

She doesn’t.

The hotel gets closer every step they take and Tobin feels that they’ve taken way too many without saying anything. She fears that they’ll arrive before talking it out.

At a last ditch effort, she offers some truth in hopes of some in return. “Christen, I don’t know what you want me to say? I didn’t mean to hurt you, I just needed time to find myself outside of soccer.”

When Christen keeps walking up the sidewalk leading to the hotel doors, Tobin’s heart sinks and she holds back. She lingers, kicking at the concrete in defeat, ready to spend the whole night outside. The brisk night air might quell the burn in her chest. Her brain starts to predict how it will be between them from now on, how practice will be in future camps and that she never—

“Are you coming?”

Her heart skips a beat at the unexpected sound of her voice. It’s closer and softer than she expected. When she lifts her head, she sees Christen sitting on the bench right outside the entryway. Tobin keeps her hands in her pockets as she makes her way over, afraid of upsetting her again. She walks up to the bench and hesitates. Christen pats the spot next to her, inviting her to join.

She sits down stealing a few glances at Christen’s face. They sit in silence, both unsure of each other. The moon is out and dawn is still a few hours away from breaking. The world stands still at this time of night. Tobin loves it because it feels like time is infinite.

“You’re right,” Christen reluctantly admits.

Tobin looks up.

“I have been avoiding you.”

Brown eyes go sad with understanding and Christen notices immediately so she ratifies, “but only because it’s how I’ve survived the year…” her voice cracks. She looks away to clear her throat and find the courage to continue, “—it’s not like you explained what you had to do—to any of us. If you had talked to me about it maybe it wouldn’t have felt like…” She wrings her hands in her lap unsure how to explain what she feels into simple words.

“Like I shut you out,” Tobin finishes.

She knows how it must feel for some people but she learned early on that she needs to take care of her needs above all else, internal growth is very important, and so she closes herself off sometimes. She’s been this way since she can remember and it has everything to do with healing. Call it recharging or introversion; it starts with a feeling, a need to get way. She has them every so often and no one has ever been able to diagnose why she shuts herself off. She’s warned people in the past but it still surprises them. Tobin doesn’t mind it because she enjoys the time she gives to herself.

“I do that sometimes.”

“Why?” Christen wonders in earnest.

Tobin shrugs her shoulders and takes time to think of something to offer her.

“This time it was about finding myself beyond the pitch. Football is my passion—my life— and I was reminded that it could be taken away at anytime” Leaning back, she takes a breath before continuing, “ It was tortuous for me to be around it. When I was diagnosed with my injury, I knew I was going to be out for a while. It hit me harder than I expected.”

“And I understand that Tobin, but it hurts people when you treat them like they’re expendable.”

“That’s not what I do!” Tobin snips.

Christen sighs, she doesn’t want to argue, she wants to understand her and maybe make her understand that she cares so much—and it just hurts.

“Okay, well maybe I’ll just have to get used to it,” she hardens.

It feels as if she just took the life out of the conversation with those words. Tobin doesn’t think that she treats people like they don’t matter. It’s not fair that she has to compromise herself for the sake of someone else’s feelings. Those that don’t understand gradually distance themselves, that’s their prerogative, but those that are closest to her allow her to ebb and flow naturally and they always pick up where they had left off. It’s been a topic of discussion but they understand— it’s just what Tobin does.

But Christen is different and the last thing Tobin wants her to feel is that she doesn’t matter.

“Is that how I make you feel?” Tobin turns her body to face her, moving her knee to rest in the space between them.

Christen doesn’t speak, she just nods her head and picks at her fingers.

“I’m sorry” Is all Tobin can offer. Explanations aren’t working and the damage has already been done. She’s sorry she hurt her but not sorry for taking the time she needed.

At this time, her phone goes off in her pocket causing the distance to fractionally increase between them. She digs for it and finds that Allie has texted asking where she is. Their flight back to Portland is tomorrow morning and if it weren’t for Allie this camp, Tobin would have slept through everything. She reads the text but puts the phone back in her pocket without replying; she wants to talk this out.

But Christen speaks before her, “We should get to bed, we both have early flights tomorrow.” She sounds defeated and it’s these exact eyes that she gives Tobin that would burn their way into her dreams tonight.

Before she can say anything to pacify the sadness in them, Christen gets up off the bench, “Goodnight Tobin and Good luck in the playoffs.”

Tobin gets up with her, tongue stuck in the back of her throat. She doesn’t follow her inside, she just mumbles a goodnight under her breath and wallows in the aftermath. She sits back down and spreads her arms and legs out, welcoming the night air. The sweater around her waist hugs her just enough for some comfort but something sits heavy in her chest. She takes her shoes off to feel the grass in between her toes; the feeling always grounds her. It’s not a surprise to be at odds with Christen. She is a strong woman: responsible, caring and determined. Their connection was either very on or very off and Tobin has learned to accept this about their relationship.

So, the company of the moon will have to do tonight.

“You know what, no!”

Christen comes storming back, startling Tobin with how fast she approaches.

“I don’t get it Tobin, you make me feel as though you care about me but then you disappear for months and come back like it never happened! I guess I’m not like Allie or Kelley. I can’t just be okay with being a convenient friend for you. I thought we had more than that.” Her fire starts to simmer and her voice returns to a soft cadence. “Alex told me to get used to it but I don’t want to…”

Tobin steps closer, noticing the water in her eyes. “Chris…” She reaches out for her but Christen flinches just out of reach. Not discouraged, Tobin steps closer and this time Christen doesn’t move. With both hands she cups both of her shoulders to stabilize her.

She looks into her wide eyes and takes a deep breath. “I can’t explain myself all the time. I’m not someone who can promise you the things you seem to want from me. I don’t know how I’ll feel months from now and I can’t say it won’t happen again.”

“I know that.” Christen rests her forehead against Tobin’s available shoulder.

She takes this opportunity to wrap her arms around the forward pulling her into a hug, “I really do care about you.”

She feels her nod against her chest and it’s the cutest thing, the way she nuzzles further in with her nose.

“But I’ll tell you something…” Tobin rubs her arms before navigating to her cheeks, encouraging her to look up.

Christen allows her guidance and peers up into tender brown eyes. She swallows at their close proximity and breathes in with her nose. Tobin examines her face, memorizes her eyelashes down to her lips. Her thumbs grace her cheeks, posed and ready to wipe away any dampness that might fall.

“You make me want to change that.”

Christen holds back a sob and can barely hold herself together. She was extremely hurt that Tobin didn’t respond to any of her messages and when she was in LA, didn’t even visit. For months, all she wanted to know was how her recovery was going, but she heard nothing—knew nothing.

And now that she has her here—in front of her—arms holding her tight, all she knows is that she wants to know everything.

Tobin hoped for this opportunity. She wants more. Inching closer, she glances from Christen’s lips to her eyes and back to her lips again, in a desperate effort to read the situation correctly. Christen looks as though she wants to be kissed and Tobin wants nothing more than to show her how much she cares. The smell of salt and flowers overwhelms Tobin’s senses; it sends galvanized heat into every pore. Time does not disappoint, giving her the feeling of infinity in this moment. She wants to live in it and so she takes her time.

She tries to keep her eyes open but they close out of their own volition, millimeters from connecting. Tobin feels her bottom lip touch and she involuntarily licks outward to taste. Oh, She’s sweet.

“Harry?”

At the sound of being called, Tobin slowly opens her eyes from a dream. She blinks awareness back into her bones and sees Christen already a few feet away.

“You out here?—there you are!” Allie makes her way over, not recognizing a ruined moment, and inserts herself between them. “I’ve been texting you, it’s 4am Harry. Our flight is in 3 hours.”

“Harry!” Tobin pleads.

“Hey Christen, “ Allie mows on pulling Tobin with her, “I don’t get you. Always out and about like a lost child, that’s why I adore you though. If it weren’t for you, I’d have nothing to do. Lynn was determined to sleep in your bed since you weren’t around but I kicked her out and told her Harry wouldn’t abandon me—”

Christen is left behind this time, cheeks flush and legs pressed tight. The moon welcomes her spirit and she looks up into it with pleasure. Tobin allows Allie to haul her off but she manages to twist her neck and deliver a sorry her way.

“—It’s not easy keeping your spot in a room by the way. Everyone knows you leave your bed empty a lot and if they have Lindsey or Megan as a roomie, they’d gladly take a snore-free room. I don’t blame them!” Allie had one too many Moscow mules, so Tobin takes the lead back to the room.

“They are loud aren’t they?” Tobin amusingly contributes.

“Yes! They are like grown trolls when they sleep.” She laughs but suddenly chokes out, “Oh, man… wait—did I interrupt something out there?! I totally didn’t mean to, I just didn’t want you to miss our flight tomorrow.” Allie pouts and looks behind her after Christen. She isn’t there but she realizes she might’ve just ruined something important.

“No dude, you’re good. We were just talking.”

“Right…” She grins, “talking” she says with air quotes.

“Whatever.” Tobin grunts, scowling to cover up her smile. “No fraternizing with the enemy here! We have a shield to win!”

“Damn right!” As the elevator door closes they perform their special handshake.

Faded laughter fills the halls as Christen finally makes her way back into the lobby. But the only shield on her mind is the one she builds over her heart for Tobin Heath.

 

[Preath Photo ](https://footballer-preath.tumblr.com/post/165671442076/beyond-the-pitch-au)


	2. Lean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "We all struggle. We all go through a hard time. That's life; that's living, so at least let's do it together, let's rely on each other a little bit more." -AH

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> View the photo, The Pitch- magazine, before reading the chapter. Hope you enjoy.

* * *

[The Pitch- Magazine](https://footballer-preath.tumblr.com/post/165788285956/beyond-the-pitch-au) 

** CH. 2 - Lean **

  
  
“Would you put that magazine down?” Ashlyn screeches from the kitchen, “Tobin!”  
  
Allie walks out from the bathroom with a chortle and then into the living room to reprimand Tobin, “You better go finish what you started in there,” she taps her leg to get her attention, “you were suppose to be helping her.”  
  
“Huh?” Tobin lifts her nose from the crease, “I—yeah—Coming Ash!—I just haven’t read it yet, did you know she takes at least 500 shots on goal a week, with each foot!! It also says here that she’s looking forward to the game against Portland this weekend because there’s healthy rivalry—”  
  
“TOBIN!” Ashlyn pleads for help. She’s scrambling in the kitchen being keeper of pots and breaker of pans. A few of Tobin’s food ‘projects’ are burning and she doesn’t have a clue of what they are, otherwise she would have remedied the situation by now.  
  
The absent chef stands up, still holding the magazine, “Coming!!” She yells.  
  
“Did you know,” she whispers to Allie making sure Ashlyn doesn’t hear her not coming, “that she beat Sam Kerr in goals scored yesterday, now with 18,” she bobs her head around the wall to make sure Ashlyn isn’t coming, “But what’s most interesting in this interview is that they asked her if she had a crush—ow!”  
  
A chunk of hot burnt potato smacks Tobin in the cheek.  
  
Ashlyn had thrown a potato.  
  
“Get your Mother-Lovin-Ass in the kitchen!” She winds her arm back and throws another piece but Tobin’s able to anticipate its trajectory and snag it out of the air.  
  
“Woah! Hey! These are my potato bites! Why are you throwing them?!” With a concerned face she pops the crusty potato chunk into her mouth.  
  
“Those chunks of charcoal you mean?! Since you’ve abandoned me in the kitchen, they’ve burnt!”  
  
Tobin throws the magazine at the coffee table, “They’re perfect!” She declares. Making her way toward the kitchen, she gives Allie a childish smile—burnt potatoes seeping out of the corners of her mouth. Allie sticks her tongue out in retort. They act like sisters more than anything and Tobin’s thankful for her everyday. It’s funny because they used to avoid each other. They didn’t hate each other per-say, they just didn’t interact; now, they are inseparable.  
  
“Come on Piney, you can pine for Christen after dinner.” Ashlyn mocks, “Since you left me in there alone… you don’t know if I’m really going to give you food poisoning…” She grabs Tobin’s shoulder playfully shoving her.  
  
“What?” She decides to ignore her jab about Christen, “Yeah right, that’s the only way you’d win this weekend. That’s why I wanted to cook my own food.” She shoves her friend back, pushing her fully into the kitchen.  
  
“And I’m not pining.” She mumbles, not being able to let it go without defense.  
  
“Was too!” Allie shouts from the living room.  
  
“Blasphemy! This is an outrage! Traitor!” Tobin jokes over her shoulder as she mans her station at the stove once again.  
  
Allie and Tobin flew direct to Orlando to stay with Ashlyn and Ali before their game on Saturday. They play each other and it’s always a good time at their house. It’s comforting to stay with friends instead of a hotel. The sterility of hotels is a common environment for Tobin and anytime she can get away from that, she welcomes it.  
  
The kitchen is a disaster, she observes, looking around while stirring her pan. Her ‘potato bombs’ were luckily pulled out of the oven already, her rice is safe in the cooker, but her perfectly blended vegetable mixture experimentally spiced is not fairing so well.  
  
“What is that anyway?!” Ashlyn questions as she pokes at the contents in the pan, “Looks like chopped up witch fingers.”  
  
Tobin whacks her hand away, “Shut it, I’m trying something new. If you want any, better be nice.”  
  
“Oh I’m good! You can have all,” she swirls her finger over the pan, “of that.”  
  
Ali walks into the kitchen to grab some water and immediately makes a face, “Something smells weird in here.”  
  
Ashlyn quickly points her finger, “it’s Tobin! She decided to poison us instead.”  
  
“I didn’t! It’s just,” she pushes the dead veggies around with a spoon, “something different.”  
  
Who is she kidding? It looks nothing like the original recipe. It didn’t seem that complicated to make and she thought she recognized all the spices in it. Turns out she has no idea how to cook.  
  
Ali dares to inch close enough to peek in the pan, “Are you trying to make what Christen made at camp?”  
  
“What? No, it’s…” Tobin sighs, she can’t lie on the spot. She tried to make the sweet and spicy stir-fry that Christen whipped up for them while they all watched soccer on the big screen. “…yeah… it is.” She admits with defeated shoulders.  
  
“Aw Tobs, it’s ok!” Ali pats her back, “It doesn’t look…that bad.”  
  
Ali was always looking on the bright side of things. That’s why Tobin encouraged Ashlyn to follow her heart. She’s good for her in so many ways and together they’ve grown to be the best versions of themselves. It’s an inspiration but it didn’t come easy. And that part scares her.

“Why didn’t you ask Christen how to make it?” Ali innocently asks.  
  
Tobin shrugs her shoulders. Honestly, she didn’t want to bother Christen. Despite almost kissing her, she isn’t sure where they stand. It was a confusing night for both of them, the only thing clear in her head is football and that’s all she wants to think about. “I thought I could do it on my own,” she admits.  
  
“I’ll text her” Allie offers, joining them in the kitchen.  
  
“At least we have rice and whatever you’re cooking babe,” Ali comments toward Ashlyn.  
  
“Harry, wait!” Tobin abandons her post again to stop Allie from going through with it. She attempts to grab the phone but Allie is too fast and steps to the side and successfully boxes her out.  
  
“Chill Harry! I’m just going to ask her—ah—for the recipe!”

Tobin wrestles with her; she doesn’t want anyone to know about what happened between them. Even though Christen wouldn’t tell anyone, she’s still nervous about it. But right now, she doesn’t want to involve her. It’ll confuse things even more and she doesn’t want the distraction before the game tomorrow.  
  
“Wait, Al. Is that _my_ phone?!” Tobin realizes that Allie is not only trying to text Christen, but from her phone!  
  
“Come on! That’s—Not—funny—ahh!” She tries to wrap herself around Allie but she some how gets pinned to the ground and sat on.  
  
“Hey!—easy—Relax!” Allie manages to trap Tobin between her and the floor. She sits comfortably on the middle of her back while navigating the phone to their conversation, “You haven’t texted her since Wednesday?!” She discovers.  
  
Tobin stops attempting to flip her over and grunts, “I don’t know! You—

Ugh—I can’t breathe…” She’s being overly dramatic but she’ll try anything to get her phone back.  
  
“I’ll get up if you promise to text her, like right now.” She waves the phone in front her face. “Especially because whatever you two had going on that night got interrupted. You should check on her.”  
  
With her cheek smashed into the tile floor she replies, “Ok!”  
  
“Wait—what happened the other night?” Ali pops one of Ashlyn’s perfect French fries in her mouth. She over heard what Allie had said and has been waiting for Tobin to make a move for a long time. “Did something finally happen?!” She giddily skips over to the Portland pile.  
  
“NO!” Tobin squawks.  
  
“In Cincinnati, the night before we flew out here, I interrupted them outside at 4am. If I remember correctly, “ Allie taps the phone to her chin, “you two were really close. Like super close…” Having to recall the memory, Allie starts to remember more of what she saw.  
  
Refusing to quit, Tobin suddenly fights back full throttle and manages to tip Allie off her back. She flips around, wraps her strong legs around Allie’s midriff and bear hugs her from behind, reaching for the device. “Give—it—back!” Tobin grabs for the phone.  
  
Allie screams trying her best to thwart the Tobin attack but it’s too late. She may have lost the phone but she still grins because she won the battle.  
  
“Harry!” Tobin scolds. She looks into her phone and sees a message already sent. She ignores everyone laughing around her as she quickly reads the eulogy to her own death.

 

 

 

 

> **{9/22/17 6:32pm} Chris  
>    
>  Tobin:** I wish you were here to help me. I just tried to make your stir-fry and completely destroyed the kitchen.

“oh Come ON Allie!”  
  
Tobin scurries off the floor, intently waiting for those three dots to pop up. She exits her present company to focus. On what—she isn’t exactly sure, but she has to do something to fix this. It’s the exact thing she didn’t want Christen to know—the truth.  
  
Taking a deep breath, she sits on the couch to think. She lifts her head to ponder, growing more annoyingly frustrated at her current situation, but in the middle of her brooding she spots the potato that hit her in the face on the floor and gets a satisfying idea.

She leans back on the couch and is able to get a direct line to Allie in the hallway. Sticking half way out of the kitchen, Allie talks to Ashlyn and Ali as they save dinner. Tobin has the potato in hand and throws it with her whole body weight, basically flinging it with all she’s got. It sores through the air, hits the lamp sticking out of the wall and explodes all over Allie’s head.  
  
“Oh shit…” Tobin whispers. She clambers out of sight, like she isn’t the obvious assailant, and burrows herself into the couch on the other side of the room.

It’s silent.  
  
They’ve stopped talking and she’s buried under pillows so she can’t see what’s going on. Too anxious to inspect the damage, she waits for a reaction—a comeback—anything.  
  
But nothing happens.  
  
She lifts her head out from under the pillow fort and surveys the living room before sitting up.  
  
“Guys?” She timidly calls, holding a pillow tightly in front of her body, just in case.  
  
No answers, not even movement in the kitchen anymore, which is concerning. She thought they were cooking dinner.  
  
_Where the hell did they go?_ She asks herself. Curiosity gets the best of her; with the pillow still in hand she lifts herself up to scope out the situation.  
  
Shuffling up the hallway she comes up to the scene of the crime: the lamp has a splat the size of a quarter, the wall has pieces stuck to it and on the floor lies the rest of her brave soldier. She steps over him, murmurs “Sorry dude,” and peers around into the kitchen.  
  
Nobody.

She stands there, a little confused, but she knows something is going to happen; she’s just not sure what. “Harry?” She asks cautiously, moving inches at a time.  
  
“MELEE!”

Ashlyn pops out in front of her with a super soaker the size of a baby cow. Right after her, Allie jumps from down the hallway to behind her, trapping her in the kitchen with no way out. Tobin turns to see her best friend with a semi-automatic freaking nerf gun.  
  
“Now guys…” She stands with both hands stretching out, palms pleading at each of them.  
  
For a split second, she is relieved to learn that at least Ali is on her side, nowhere in sight. “…just think about this for a minute. We have dinner cooked in here—  
  
“FIRE!” Allie screams.  
  
They open fire, Allie with her Nerf gun and Ashlyn with her water canon.  
  
“ _fuck_ ” Tobin desperately bounces around the narrow space between the island and the counter like a pin ball, getting soaked and pelted all at once.  
  
“Ali! Save me! You’re girlfriend is ruining your kitchen!” She tries to appeal to Ali’s love for her newly remodeled kitchen but right when she calls out, Ali pops out of one of the lower cabinets and screams, “Surprise bitch!” And throws handfuls of flour right in her face.  
  
Everyone freezes: Ashlyn stops squirting, Allie stops shooting and Ali sits half way out of the cabinet having just released their secret weapon. The only thing in motion is the plume of flour clouding around Tobin.  
  
Tobin is stunned—down right flabbergasted.  
  
“Oh my god,” Allie busts out hysterically and being out of Nerf balls, she drops to the floor in a fit of laughter.  
  
Tobin stays completely still, her face peppered in white. She blinks and spits the powder out from her eyes and mouth. Small piles gather on her shoulders and in the creases of her clothes and her arms bare resemblance to a bobsled winter course.  
  
They all wait. Unsure of what Tobin’s reaction will be, they all silently hold their breath trying not to laugh as hard as they want to.  
  
When she manages to get her eyes open, she calculates her first form of revenge.  
  
This is war.  
  
She looks around with just her eyes, not daring to give away her next move. Tobin spots her burnt witch fingers in the pan to the front of her. She takes a few more seconds to envision her attack. Then, she lashes out to grab a whole bundle of them and goes for Allie first, easy target and on the floor. Allie ducks away after being smacked with 5 or 6 vegetables. Next, Tobin swings back around to the pan for another handful and throws them at Ashlyn. But being one of the best goalkeepers in the nation, she has quick legs and dives out of the way. The last, but the most important person is Ali. The true treason lies in her dirty hands.  
  
“You!” Tobin turns and points her wet-floured finger. Ali squeaks as she tries to scratch her way out of the small hiding place. She reaches for Allie’s outstretched hand and screams “Save yourself! Leave me!”  
  
Tobin spider jumps on top of Ali and starts jabbing her in all the vulnerable places: her ribs, armpits, and legs. “You betrayed me Ali! I thought—you were—a—sensible—human—being!” Jabbing in between each word.  
  
Allie starts to reload her Nerf gun with all the balls she can find on the floor but Tobin catches on and leaps off of Ali and on top of her. Ashlyn pops back in the kitchen to save Ali, grabbing her by the arm to drag her out of harms way.  
  
“Thanks guys!” Allie yells, feeling abandoned.  
  
Tobin manages to pull the Nerf gun away from her and gets a few shots off into Allie’s back as she scurries away into the main living area.  
  
“Aw Harry, where you going? I wanted you to say hello.” Tobin recites, picking up more balls to load.  
  
Allie responds from behind the couch, “No! I don’t want to say hello to your little friend Harry!”  
  
“Fee—Fi—Fo—Fum! I smell the blood of a squeamish one.” Tobin animates her way into the living room, proud and in control of the situation. She pops a few warning shots over the couch into the wall just above Allie’s head. “Come out, come out—

 

 ***Ding** **Ding** *  
  
Tobin’s phone goes off on the coffee table. She looks at it, then back to Allie. They both get the same idea at the same time and dart for the phone. Tobin throws the Nerf gun behind her while Allie leaps over the couch.  
  
“I wonder who it’s from?” Allie blurts out with her legs in the air, arm’s outstretched reaching the phone first.  
  
“Allie…” Tobin warns. She left her phone on the coffee table like an idiot. “Give it to me” She leaps for it but Allie lifts it over her head.  
  
“Not until you apologize.”  
  
“For what?!”  
  
“For throwing the potato”

Suddenly, Ali shows up out of nowhere and nabs the phone from Allie’s hands.  
  
“You guys!” Tobin whines.  
  
Just when she thinks she can’t take anymore, Ali steps calmly toward her and hands her the phone.  
  
“Here Tobs,” She smiles, understanding the anxiety of feelings.  
  
“Thanks,” Tobin mumbles, already head down eager to see what she wrote—if it’s from her.  
  
“Aw Ali! I had her!” Allie grumbles.  
  
Tobin turns away from them and at a snails pace, walks and reads.

 

 

 

 

> **{9/22/17 7:15pm}  
>    
>  Chris:** Aw, you liked it that much? I could have walked you through it. Is Ali mad that you destroyed her kitchen?

   
The smile crept up just as fast as her friends did. She knew Allie was just as eager to read what Christen replied, so she let her read over her shoulder.  
  
“You’re blushing Romeo” Ashlyn states.  
  
Tobin laughs and is too busy controlling the butterflies in her belly to care. She types back:

 

 

 

 

> **Tobin:** Well, it ended in a food fight that she started so… I don’t think she’s that mad.

“You should tell her you like her cooking,” Allie suggests. Tobin gives her a look but doesn’t think that it’s a bad idea.

 

 

 

 

> **Tobin:** Of course, I like all your cooking. The stir-fry was your latest success.

“Good, now wish her luck tomorrow.”  
  
Tobin shrugs Allie off her shoulder, “Hey, do _you_ want to date her?”  
  
As soon as the words left her mouth, she fills with regret. She scrunches her eyes closed and tries to walk off.  
  
“Oooooh, you want to date her huh?” Allie swoons following her into the other room. Thoroughly tickled by the confession, she continues. “I don’t know if I do…but at the pace you’re going I might as well. She deserves all the pretty flowers in the garden.” She states catching up to her to flutter her eyelashes.  
  
“Stop it” Tobin palms her face pushing her to the side.  
  
“ok, ok…I’ll stop.” Allie relents.  
  
“I just want to focus on football right now, and it’s really hard when you’re pushing me to do what I’m convincing myself not to. You know?”  
  
Tobin is perturbed but she’s used to this kind of inclusion, it’s just this time it’s overwhelming. The burden she has is for her heart to bear because she wants to listen to her head. She wants to increase her level of play because since her injury she has a lot of catching up to do.  
  
“Hey…” Allie wraps her arm around Tobin’s shoulders.  
  
“You know I’m just looking out for you in the best possible way. I understand your need to focus but when you focus too hard you can miss all the possibilities that lie in these moments that pass you by. I think of it as a ‘what if this window never opens again’ kind of mindset.”  
  
“I get that but if I can’t get back to the level of play I want to be at then I don’t think I would be able to enjoy the little things anyway. It’s football first and then I can think about everything else. Just pump the breaks on this, ok?”  
  
Allie understands Tobin more than most, but she just wants what’s best for her. It’s been a calibrating transition for them too; she isn’t sure where Tobin’s head is at because she was also the victim of Tobin’s hiatus.  
  
“Ok, I promise to back off if you go with the flow on this one. If it happens, it happens—don’t fight it so hard, yeah?”  
  
Tobin’s phone goes off but she ignores it to think about Allie’s words. She knows she has her best interest at heart, she always does. But this is important to her and if she learned anything while growing up in the game, it’s how to prioritize.  
  
“I’ll do what’s best for my game and that’s where my heads at. We have a match to win tomorrow and I need to eat.” She finalizes with a nod before heading back into the kitchen. She curtails the conversation on purpose; it’s not for Allie to worry about. She knows what she’s doing.  
  
Allie lingers behind with concern etching her eyes. Tobin is hopeless sometimes and she thinks she avoids investing in people in fear of losing them one day. It’s natural to have fear but one day the game will grow past them all and into a new era, leaving them with the little things they fought for amidst it. Allie often thinks about what lies beyond the pitch for Tobin, and that’s why she interferes so much. It’s not a justification for her actions, it’s more like nurturing and making sure she has support. Tobin is someone who people want to take care of, from Cheney and A-rod to Alex and Kelley. They were all mother hens to her at some point and Christen used to be one of them. After awhile a code for asking how Tobin was doing was born, an acronym—TCOT. Anytime anyone of them wondered about her, they’d ask ‘TCOT?’—‘Taking Care of Tobin?’  
  
And currently Allie’s the closest to her so she’s the tapped source of her well-being. She doesn’t mind; she is a mother hen too. However, right now things aren’t normal. She feels like Tobin is shutting herself off more than she should and Cheney, the woman Tobin looks up to most, would say the same thing. She’s been calling to check up on her but Allie hasn’t been sure how to respond. Tobin’s not answering people’s calls and it’s worrying them. This might be the most she’s pulled away from them and Allie feels like Christen is the only one who can find out what’s going on.

~*~

 

Dinner was an eclectic meal of French fries, burnt potato bombs, rice and Ashlyn’s amazing cheeseburgers she grilled outside after the food fight. They chatted about the playoffs and their upcoming game against each other, offering taunts and jabs in good fun. The little playing time Tobin got in the New Zealand friendlies was limited and she expects it to be the same tomorrow. Nothing is more frustrating than not being able to play. She needs to improve and she wants it more than anything. So the text in her pocket went unread until they cleaned up, took showers and said their goodnights. Tobin settles in on the couch in the living room. She wanted Allie to have the guest room claiming she sleeps better on couches anyway. In all honesty, she wanted to go outside and juggle the ball for a bit without disturbing anyone.  
  
She grabs her hoodie, a ball and heads outside to join the familiar moon in a juggle session. After she reaches one hundred, she stops counting. The night’s breeze clears her head and she feels on track.

Until her phone dings again.  
  
She decides to rip the Band-Aid off and read them

 

 

> **{9/22/17 8:45pm}  
>    
>  Chris:** I’m glad you liked it, I’ll teach you how to cook it one day. ;)
> 
>   **{9/23/17 12:29am}**
> 
> **Chris:** Are we ever going to talk about it?

Tobin tilts her head back and takes a deep breath. All the clarity she gained in the thirty minutes of juggling has escaped. She’s at a precipice and if she were to slip now, she’d fall for sure. Football is a mental game, she knows life is too, but relationships don’t end well—not in her experience. So she rallies herself into sticking with her gut. She’s just about to put her phone back in her pocket when she remembers something Allie said.

_“What if this window never opens again?”_

She feels another ping in her gut causing her to squeeze her phone in defiance. Trapped in an internal dissonance, she isn’t sure how to proceed.  
  
_“Damnit Harry,”_ She curses under her breath.  
  
Tobin unlocks her phone and types out a reply

 

 

 

> **{9/23/17 12:34am}**
> 
> **Tobin:** I’m not sure I want to

She hits send before she can think about it. It might have been abrupt and short but she truly isn’t sure if she wants to talk about it. It’s honest and if it weren’t for Allie’s words ringing in her head, she wouldn’t have replied at all. After a few minutes of justifying herself, she starts to kick the ball around again. The moon blares it’s light off the rooftops, ricocheting into the streets. She can hear a party a few blocks down blaring against the peace but it’s comforting at the same time.

Tobin soaks up the atmosphere for a few more minutes before heading inside. Christen hasn’t replied and she doesn’t blame her. This is what she hoped would happen so she wouldn’t have to think about it. Ever since Christen got called up to play for her country, their relationship escalated into a strong friendship and it didn’t stop there. It started with long stares in the locker room to sitting next to each other on the bus and now it’s so charged between them, they both don’t know how to act. Tobin’s injury spurred on the latest development and she knows it’s only a matter of time before they have to face the gay elephant in the room.

She brushes her teeth, commits to 25 push-ups and flops down on the couch. It’s been a long road but she’s finally about to play her first club game this season and she’s nervous. They’ve been doing great without her, what if her chemistry is all screwed up and she can’t create plays or get the ball up the field? Tobin slams her fists into the couch insisting to herself that it’ll be fine—just play soccer.

Her eyes begin to close when her phone goes off, interrupting her lull. Her eyes snap open but she lies still. Her heart is beating fast with anticipation. She knows it’s Christen; she’s just fighting it tooth and nail. Tobin turns over facing inside the couch leaving her phone on the coffee table. There’s a tiny niggling in her belly that she tries to ignore. It’s telling her to read it—reply—screw it, call her!

 _Just go to sleep_. She tells herself. _You don’t care—it’s nothing. Close your eyes and think about nothing._ She coaches herself to be strong but after tossing and turning for what feels like an eternity in limbo, she flips over to grab her phone and reads the message.

 

 

 

 

> **{9/23/17 1:20am}  
>    
>  Chris:** Consider it forgotten.

  
_Well, shit._ Now she feels like rubbish. It won’t be forgotten, despite all of her efforts, it’s all she’s been able to think about. She’s not sure if she want’s Christen to forget it either. Just because she doesn’t’ want to address it anytime soon, does not mean she wants it to be forgotten.

 

> **Tobin:** I don’t want to forget it happened. I just think the timing is off.

She types the message but thinks about it before she hits send this time. She wants to make sure Christen understands. Almost immediately after she hits send, Christen replies.

 

> **Chris:** Time will never be on our side unless we carve it out for the things that matter.

> **Tobin:** And it matters

> **Chris:** Then why is it so hard for you to talk to me?

Tobin lies on her back to think about that question. _Why is it so hard to talk to her?_ It used to be easy. Now it’s complicated. She wants to push the boundaries and say things that she can’t take back, things like: you’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met, you’re beautiful, your smile is the cure to my disease, and so on. She’s afraid of how much she will be consumed by it. And ever since their discussion in the streets of Cincinnati she realized that Christen wouldn’t let her fall back in place with her. Tobin thinks she wants reassurances and declarations that she can’t give. She wants to speak from the heart and tell her how she feels. So Tobin doesn’t think and just starts to type.

 

> **~~Tobin:~~ ** ~~Because if I let this happen, I’m afraid of how much it will hurt when it ends~~

  
She takes her thumbs away from the screen, it’s not coming out right. After rolling the sentence around in her head, she decides to erase the message and try something else.

 

> **Tobin:** When it comes to you, I don’t feel in control.

> **Chris:** Can’t that be a good thing?

> **Tobin:** I’m not sure. Like I’ve said before, I want to have a clear head to focus on soccer.
> 
> **Chris:** After you hurt your back, it’s been so different. I can’t tell which way the wind blows with you. I feel like we aren’t even friends.

> **Tobin:** We are! I—

She grunts at herself and stops typing to ventilate. Christen isn’t wrong. She knows she’s giving mixed signals and pulling away every chance she gets. During her time away from everyone she was able to create a bubble. Inside that bubble, Tobin was able to control everything about her day, live it to the fullest. Her mindset, when she woke up, was her choice. She was able to experience things without the external influence of others; it was pure reactions of her own. She relied mostly on herself on a daily basis and it was important to her to keep that paradigm. It might seem selfish to some but selfishness is necessary for growth and preservation. When someone else is involved, compromise is a huge aspect to a successful relationship. And Tobin isn’t sure she wants to compromise any part of what she gained in her time away.

 

 

> **Tobin:** We are! It’s more complicated now though. I don’t want to jeopardize everything because it’s not the right time. I want our friendship to continue like it always has. We are in the middle of playoffs and we have friendlies in the next few months.

> **Chris:** So that means you can’t talk to me?

> **Tobin:** No  
>    
>  **Chris:** Then what is this ‘thing’ you think will happen that will destroy your focus and ‘jeopardize everything’?

> **Chris:** You kissed ME. I didn’t ask you to do that.  
>    
>  **Chris:** And here I am trying to force things out of you again…

Tobin reads her back-to-back texts and something inside of her is boiling up to the surface. She knows that Christen is trying to over analyze everything and honestly, Tobin’s probably driving her crazy. She likes that Christen tries to plan everything out and anticipate her next moves constantly. She thinks that’s what makes her such a great asset in the final third and lethal within the 18. For Tobin, she might need someone like that to pull her out of the deep comforts of her stubbornness—someone who can reach in and show her it’s okay to compromise. Sometimes it’s worth it

 

> **Tobin:** I know I did! I couldn’t help myself

Her emotions get the best of her and she turns defensive. Christen deserves more than what she’s willing to give right now. She should find someone who can give her all of the attention she desires, so she adds the next text message for good measure. Taking herself out of contention.

 

> **Tobin:** I shouldn’t have..

Tobin throws her head back with the help of a slamming palm to her forehead. It’s not exactly what she wants to say but more of what she thinks needs to happen. She waits for Christen to reply but twenty minutes go by and nothing, not even three dots appear. It’s late, so maybe she fell asleep. Lately, their conversations have a pattern and it was Tobin’s least favorite thing. Having Christen upset with her riddles her insides with decay. It feels as though it’s eating away at her slowly but it’s manageable. It’s more manageable than the way she acts when she lets her feelings run away with her heart. She gets desperate, unfocused and obsessive. She doesn’t want all that during the playoffs. She’s been too involved with a teammate before and that didn’t end well. Tobin hasn’t been with anyone since and that was many years ago. Perhaps, she’s out of practice and she just refuses to relearn the steps. Regardless of the reason, she falls asleep with a heavy heart and a stitched brow.

~*~

 

It’s game day. The Portland Thorns and The Orlando Pride are warming up and the stands are filling with excited little faces. A few red shirts dot the stands but it’s mostly purple. The pitch has been properly watered and Tobin’s cleats dig into the dirt with ease. She inhales the smell of the grass and is extremely grateful to be back. Christen hasn’t texted her since last night and her mind won’t let her forget it. She thinks about her during high knees, stretches, and shooting drills. Guilt sticks to her insides. She said what she thought was best at the time and now she has regret. Tobin knows they can’t go back to how it used to be. Despite her efforts to act like the last 6 months didn’t happen, Christen won’t let it slide.

She does her best to push it all into the back of her mind before the game starts.

She isn’t starting.  
  
Parson’s talked with the national team trainers and coaches and they all decided that she’d play for a limited time today.

Tobin stands on the sidelines in a chartreuse bib and she can’t stand still. Her team can’t get organized and the Pride presses hard forward. Marta and Alex Morgan’s connection creates a few opportunities to score but luckily Adrianna Franch protects the goal with diving saves. During the 18th minute Franch is put to the test blocking four shots in close succession.

The Thorns can’t connect balls, their backline is struggling and Tobin wants to play. She sees where she can make a difference and wants to scream ‘Put me in coach!’ but she waits patiently for her time.

She thinks they’re about to score when Sykes has a run up the right side in the final third! She’s challenged but she manages to pass it off to Raso, who is tightly guarded but she squeezes out a wall pass into the 18 back to Sykes. Ashlyn Harris comes out of her box and slide tackles her in a dangerous challenge. The ball pops over Harris’ foot, behind her and towards the goal! Tobin jogs up the sideline to catch a better view screaming, “lets go!” It’s so close, the ball is about to bounce across the line when Monica comes running in, kicking it out for the save.  
  
The score stays 0-0.

Tobin gets subbed in at the 60th minute for Nadia Nadim. When she warms up, the crowd cheers and she gets hyped. She creates plays and tries to lead the team in a strengthened attack. She’s giving it her all but Orlando is putting up a strong defense. Her first chance to gain traction in the game is a free kick near the 30. Tobin angles herself to kick the ball with her left foot. She raises her hand, steps into the ball and as soon as she felt it, she knew it was off. It doesn’t even make it over the near post defender. Raso redeems her by fighting for the ball back and puts it at her feet again. Tobin looks up, thinks about crossing it but sees a lot of purple. She finds a line to Sonnett and Henry. Sonnet lets it roll by for Henry to take the shot—it goes wide. Disappointing but exactly what she wants to see.  
  
She’s able to achieve a few good passes when she touches the ball. Every play gives her more confidence to run with the ball. The game advances with aggressive challenges and fouls are getting passed out left and right. When it gets this combative, players get hurt. Parson’s, the head coach, is yelling from the sidelines. The whistle is earning its paycheck this game. Tobin tries to stay calm and focus on landing correctly when she’s pushed but ultimately she tries to stay on her feet.  
  
In the 70th minute she makes a run onto a good ball, getting behind the back line. This is her chance, she’s going to score but she hears the whistle blow. She can’t believe it! They call her offsides. She knew she times her run right. Every call this game is throwing coal into the fire of her belly.  
  
Fourteen minutes later, she has an opportunity up the left flank challenged by Monica right on her heels but Tobin kicks it into another gear. She beats her down the line and is challenged by Ali. She cuts it back to try and throw Ali off of her as Monica steps back to help defend the goal. Tobin quickly transitions and attempts an inside touch to her left foot but she’s a step off and it causes her to miss-touch the ball out of bounds.  
  
Tobin is enraged and quickly apologizes to her team with a wave.  
  
“Fuck!” She curses at herself. Tobin saw it in her mind—the play she was committing to was right there within her ability but her thoughts jumbled and she couldn’t fully connect to her feet.  
  
She has her last opportunity to make something happen in the 88th minute flicking the ball over the defenders in front of Sinclair. She has a poor first touch and it trickles down to Ashlyn’s feet.  
  
The game ends in a draw.  
  
It wasn’t her best performance; she knows she can do better but everyone thought she made an offensive difference and congratulated her. She’s thankful for her team and her fans, the stadium welcomed her back with high enthusiasm. She beats herself up for everything did wrong instead of focusing on everything she did right.

“Hey, good game” Allie comforts her. She approaches her after the teams high five and throwing a familiar arm around her. Tobin gives a thankful nod and turns out of her embrace.  
  
She isn’t happy with Allie right now. After thinking on it all day, Christen wouldn’t be upset with her if it weren’t for Allie’s text. It’s not her fault but it didn’t help things any.  
  
She hugs a few more of her teammates and heads to the stands. Tobin has to thank her fans, they’ve been so supportive and a big part of why she leaves it all on the pitch. She’s back and she wants to put in the work to permeate herself back into the fandom. She takes a few pictures and signs all the autographs she can. Ashlyn is signing autographs right next to her and she gives Tobin an encouraging smile. Before heading into the locker room, Ashlyn grabs Tobin and forces her in for a hug.  
  
“Nice try Tobin Heath” She softly says in the small space between them.  
  
She gives her a tight lip smile and tries to squirm out from her grip but Ashlyn holds tighter.  
  
“Listen dude, I know you’ve been struggling with how to deal with being back. I can tell you it wasn’t easy for me either. We need each other more than you think. Maybe we need to rely on each other a little bit more. I’ve learned how to speak about my struggles and it’s helped me grow. You can lean on others if you need to and it’s not weakness. We are here for you whether you like it or not.” She lets go after her last words and walks off without allowing Tobin to respond.  
  
Tobin shakes her head but can’t help but smile. Ashlyn is a huge inspiration and she exudes this calm that people feed off of. She loves her for it and makes sure to thank her later.  
  
Tobin makes her way into the locker room with Sinclair not far behind her.  
  
They go to their respective lockers but she hears “good to have you back.”

It was simple yet it meant a lot. Tobin smiles, “Thanks Sinc.”  
  
It was nice to hear something other than good game. She’s been a great captain because of her intuition on and off the field and it _is_ good to be back.  
  
She sits on the bench looking at her phone, a lot of what Ashlyn said is ringing in her ears. She knows Christen plays later in the evening. Hoping she does well, she decides to send luck her way.

 

> **Tobin:** Good luck today

She knows she probably won’t get a reply but she wants to dilute the guilt she has so she hits send and heads to the showers. **  
  
  
**

**~*~  
   
**

Christen had a fantastic game. She led the team into a 3-2 victory against the Houston Dash. Frustration found it’s way into her blood and she let it show more than usual in her play. She spiked the ball for the first time in a long while and it didn’t even make her feel better.  
  
To clear her head, she took a bag of balls from the bus and walked a few blocks to the practice field by the hotel. Julie left her an hour ago when she got tired and she used the rest of the time punishing herself. She took shot after shot, running after the balls, setting up and did it again—over and over.  
  
She punishes herself for thinking Tobin can be someone consistent and in her life.

 

She punishes herself for being so confused about it.  
  
  
After a grueling session she takes a rest against a goal post. It’s been a great year with family and friends but she’s missed one particular person who doesn’t seem to want any part of her. Even though she’s willing to give it to her. She received Tobin’s good luck and used it to fuel her game. She played hard in hopes Tobin was watching.

  
Now, she sits twirling her phone in her hands debating on whether to respond. If she’s learned anything in life it’s to fight for what she wants. Her confidence has always been a constant battle for her but she’s learned so much about her ability to overcome doubt. She knows herself better than she’s ever before and it’s this resilience that’s led her here.  
  
It’s quiet out tonight. Houston has been beaten down by the elements but it survived. The city recovers and it’s people more tenacious than before. That’s what she loves about strife—it makes you stronger. In the middle of her mental reassurances, her phone starts to ring.

 

 

> **{10:49pm** **Incoming Call:** Tobin Heath}

She stares at the picture on the screen. Tobin’s smiling in the photograph. She remembers that day fondly, they hung out all day and listened to the Hamilton soundtrack.

She lets it ring for a few seconds because she thinks Tobin should sweat it out but she answers when her butterflies start to turn into bees.  
  
“Hello?”  
  
“Hi”  
  
“Hey…” Christen replies skeptically. After their conversation yesterday, her calling is the last thing she expected.  
  
“Hey.”  
  
Christen waits for more but all she hears is the sound of a deep exhale.  
  
“Everything ok?”  
  
She hears rustling on the other line before she gets a reply, “Yeah. I’m—how are you?”  
  
A little dumbfounded she rolls with it, “I’m fine.”

“Cool Cool”  
  
Christen adjusts her back against the post and waits. She feels anxious, nervous and giddy that she called but it’s awkward. She allows the silence to relax her as she takes steady breaths. Perhaps Tobin needs time to think about why she called. She decides to let her figure it out.  
  
“I saw you play today,” Tobin finally speaks, “you were awesome.”  
  
Christen can’t help the smile that spreads her cheeks. “Thank you,” she replies.

“My favorite part was when you were running circles around their defense.”  
  
They both giggle.  
  
“You’re amazing Chris…” Tobin breaks into a soft, serious tone.  
  
Christen swallows her laugh at the change in her voice. It sounds sad.  
  
“What’s on your mind Tobin?”  
  
She doesn’t answer right away; in fact she hears her struggle on the other end with how to answer. But she eventually replies honestly.  
  
“You.”  
  
Her breath escapes her at the confession. It’s been a long few weeks, avoiding each other because of emotional entanglement. Feelings are never easy but she thought—she was sure they had something more than what Tobin made this year out to be. Her chest starts to burn and it takes a minute to realize she’s crying.  
  
“Chris?”  
  
She tries to stay silent while wiping her face and straightening up her posture.  
  
“Hmm?” She answers, not trusting her voice.  
  
“I’m sorry…” She hears a break in Tobin’s voice and it makes her heart splinter. Christen doesn’t want Tobin to be sorry. She just wants her to open up, talk to her and treat her like she matters. This Tobin hurts her and she wants nothing more than to soothe the pain in her voice.  
  
“Talk to me Tobin…What’s going on?” This is her chance to get involved and to figure out what she’s been wondering for months.  
  
“I don’t know,” She replies with frustration, “ I’m all fucked up.”  
  
Before Christen can ask why, she continues.  
  
“I couldn’t focus today because of you.”  
  
Hearing that hurts her feelings and frankly, she didn’t do anything so she shouldn’t be blamed.  
  
“What?” She asks sharply.  
  
“No, I mean…You—“ Tobin grumbles “—you’re constantly on my mind. I’m sorry I’ve pushed you away. I wasn’t sure how to handle my recovery when I found out I was going to be out for half a year. I didn’t—I couldn’t handle being around most of you because it was always about football. It was torture to hear about when I couldn’t contribute. I know it might have been wrong…to shut you out. But I needed the time to live better than I knew how to.”  
  
Christen lets all her words sink in. Tobin’s opening up more than she ever has; she doesn’t want to say the wrong thing because they’re finally getting somewhere. She wants to say something but her throat is dry. She swallows a few times to try and speak.

Unexpectedly, Tobin continues.  
  
“And I want you to know that you do matter. You matter a lot to me and I have to start showing that. You’ve been there for me to lean on and I should be here for you. I’ll try harder, at least…”  
  
Christen’s breath is shallow and quick. She wishes she were there in person so she can see what she looks like while saying all this. Mostly though, she’d like to hug her and tell her she doesn’t have to be alone in her journey. She can’t say anything because she is trying her best not to ugly cry into the phone.  
  
“Chris, you still there?”  
  
With a shaky breath she replies, “yeah, I hear you…”  
  
“Are you crying?”  
  
“No…” The inflection in Christen’s responses tells Tobin otherwise.  
  
“Hey, I’m sorry…I—“ Tobin chokes up, “—I’m sorry I hurt you Chris. I didn’t realize how I was affecting you…Chris, talk to me…”  
  
“It’s—I’m fine, “ She clears her throat, “I’m just happy that you’re finally talking to me. I’ve known what to expect because Lauren helped me through the first few times you’ve pulled away from everyone but I thought I was—I thought…” She takes a breath, “I don’t know what I thought Tobin… I just thought maybe we had something different.”  
  
“And Maybe I was wrong.” She follows up with a little honesty of her own. “I think I read into things between us and it was slow but I definitely thought you felt the same way I do. And I get that you need to focus on soccer, you’re brilliant at it and you can bounce back from anything…  
  
“I don’t like doubting myself and you’ve been this seed in my heart that won’t stop growing. I’ve had to pick at it everyday just so it wouldn’t take over because you disappeared on me and this time it hurt the most,” she can’t help but let her tears fall out as she continues, “you let me believe I was someone expendable in your life and so I started to claw away at myself while trying to get rid of you.”  
  
She stops because she doesn’t think she can get more vulnerable than she is now. She’s convinced herself it’s not fair to put that on Tobin but it’s the truth. She feels like she lost her best friend and the possibility of a future she’s always wanted. Maybe she fantasized too much and that caused most of her heartbreak but it’s who she is: a planner, a thinker, a doer, and a dreamer.  
  
Silence takes over once again. The only sounds they exchange are heavy breaths. She’s spilt her guts out for Tobin to see and it scares her more than that PK at the Olympic games did.  
  
“I do…feel the same way. I just—I didn’t want to ruin what we have but I see that I’ve already done a good job of that. I think the possibility of an us is real, so for me…I can’t justify risking it because we want it bad enough. I—you are important to me.”  
  
Tobin doesn’t mind being in this sort of predicament, nothing feels better than the struggle of being fought for. It’s the most real thing she’s ever had with anyone. But if it's hurting Christen like this, she will do anything to make it right.  
  
“Do you forgive me?” Tobin asks.  
  
Christen exhales a small laugh, “yeah”  
  
“Please don’t get rid of me just yet…”  
  
“It’s harder than you think” she jests back.  
  
“Well, you can stop trying.”  
  
“Only if you start…” Christen says with marginal confidence.  
  
Tobin laughs—such a beautiful sound to Christen’s ears. If she could make that happen everyday, she’d be a happy woman.  
  
“I’m surprised you called”  
  
“Oh yeah? Why?”  
  
Christen shrugs her shoulders despite not being visible. “ I don’t know. You’ve been so cold, I thought it’d be me who’d break first.”  
  
“I’ll work on that. Someone told me today that I should rely on people a little more and so I thought about it for most of the night before I called you. I would rather have you closer than further away.”  
  
“I’m going to mark those words, Tobin Heath.”  
  
Her chest is left singed but she has a new feeling growing inside of it. Something grows from the ashes and fills her with a new hope—a new plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> " I hope you find someone who is brave enough to enter your storm, and respects you enough to love the size of your waves. I hope you find someone who can relish the calm you can have, and who is eager to set sail on the expanse of your mind. I hope you find someone that can't escape the love they have for you, because now they have you in their very blood, always reminding them that you are the only sea worth exploring"


	3. Girl, Game

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter is rated M and maybe a little E.

 

She sings to herself as she glides from one end of the room to the other, straightening things here and moving things there.

Christen arrives in just a few hours.

The music encourages her to stay in the present and look forward to her company. Otherwise she might cop out. She clings to the words Christen uttered to her on the phone the other night— _I want to enjoy being around you and miss as little as possible._ Tobin ignores the worry nagging behind her joy. She feels good; practice has proven that she’s back a hundred percent, so she allows herself this. When Christen suggested she come early, Tobin didn’t fight it; she was genuinely excited to spend time with her.

The hotel room has a light and airy motif but her favorite part is the bed. It has a white tufted headboard, fluffy white pillows, and a duvet made of soft angel wings. She noticed it when she walked in but hasn’t looked over at it since. She’s stayed here before and knows it’s magic. This was the only room available, King-sized bed and walk in shower—the basic honeymoon suite kind of set up. Her manager booked this room for Tobin a few days ago, anticipating her interviews and promotion spots.

She told Christen she’d get a hotel and didn’t realize she already had this one. The girl at the counter was more smitten with her presence than actually helping her change rooms. Even after an autograph, the girl couldn’t find a room with two beds.

Tobin packed a bag full of random things from her apartment—just in case items. Currently, she digs the last items out from her duffle: a candle, a mini soccer ball, Dutch Blitz, and her old iPod. She puts the candle on the night stand, drops the ball and kicks it across the room, throws the card game in the drawer of the nightstand and then hooks her iPod up to the room’s speaker.  
  
“All set.” She confirms to herself, shoving the bag under the bed and wiping her hands on her jeans. The nerves wiggle their way into her bones stiffening her back.

They’ve stayed in the same room a few times during camp but Dawn separated them most of the time because of how distracted they seemed when paired together. Now that she knows—for a fact—Christen has feelings for her, her nerves are at an all time high. Her palms won’t stay dry and she feels as though she put deodorant on three times already. She paces the room touching everything one last time before forcing herself to sit on the bed and wait for her text. She decides to lean back and take a quick photograph of herself in bed. She wanted to make sure she looked as good as she’s hoped.  
  
She sends it to Christen when she’s satisfied.  
  
_Sex.  
  
_ Tobin’s mind wanders to what this bed will witness this weekend and all she can think about is sex—sex with Christen.  
  
Her fantasies of Christen are burrowing to the forefront of her mind. It’s been a long time since Tobin has had that kind of release, let alone through this recovery adding another year on top of that. It’s compounded on her and she’s sworn off women to focus on her progress—the frustration fueling her progress. She want’s to bounce back from this injury better than she was and it’s this exact reason she avoided Christen like she did. It was a professional athlete’s decision and that’s who she is.  
  
But life is always challenging every precedent she sets for herself, bending to show her a better way or strengthening her resolve. She loves what God gives her and His challenges are always welcome.

 

> **{9/26/17 7:37pm}  
>    
>  Christen:** I just landed! Come get me

  
It’s time.  
  
Tobin leaves the room so fast she’s in the elevator before the door slams shut. The airport is close enough that she should arrive as soon as Christen grabs her bag from the claim area.  


~*~

Tobin pulls into the garage at the airport, throws her Jeep in park and takes a moment to breathe. She wants to meet her inside and help her with her luggage so she prepares herself before heading inside. Before she makes her way to baggage claim, she tilts the rear view mirror down to check her appearance. Her hair is still damp from her shower so a snapback sits backwards snug around her chestnut hair. Her lips are slightly chapped so she licks them a few times and knocks the mirror away from her.  
  
She hops out of the car and straightens her black hooded jacket more securely on her shoulders. She didn’t want to try too hard on her outfit; she’s just meeting her teammate, her friend. Her plain white shirt, fitted black jeans, a warm jacket and sliders is the most comfortable outfit she has with her. It’s not her most confident ensemble, but she rocks it regardless, always effortless and attractive.

The noises of the airport are always the same: bustling car horns, roaring airplane engines, luggage wheels clicking on the tile floor. Tobin walks in with mustered confidence, trying to avoid eye contact in case someone recognizes her. Some days she can get away without anyone recognizing her but in Portland, it’s unlikely.

She makes it all the way up the escalators and through the shop court before someone comes up to her asking if she’s Tobin Heath. The older woman looks so excited that she can’t help but nod her head at the request of a photo. She smiles into the camera and steps back when she takes more than enough.  
  
“My daughter is going to be so excited and jealous that I met you.”  
  
“Oh yeah? How old is she?” She signs the women’s plane ticket as she asks.  
  
“She’s 7 years old, her name is Landon. She’s a huge fan of you and Christen Press. Says you two are the best players on the ‘America Team’. Bless her heart.” The older woman puts her hand over her heart, obviously in love with her own daughter.

 It touches Tobin’s heart too. So she does something spontaneous and full hearted. She takes her Rose City hat off and uses the sharpie the woman gave her and signs under the bill:

 

>   
>  _To Landon ‘ a future American Team player’ -_  
>    
>  _Tobin Heath 17_

 

She hands the sharpie and the still warm hat over to the mother. The women’s eyes widen and she looks up at Tobin in awe.  
  
“Really?” she can’t believe it.

When Tobin nods the women practically jumps on her, wrapping her in a thankful hug. Tobin tenses at the embrace, completely surprised, but pats her back regardless. She wants to reach out to every young girl dreaming of something big. Tobin was fortunate enough to have the privileges she did and it’s her goal to create opportunities for young athletes to pursue something that seems impossible to them. So if she can inspire one, she’ll take the chance.  
  
“I hope Landon enjoys the hat and if she plays soccer to keep playing and practicing.”

Tobin waves at the lady still in shock and proceeds to the appropriate baggage claim. A few people stop to watch the encounter, seeing if they recognize her too but she picks up the pace so Christen isn’t stuck waiting. But upon her arrival, she sees Christen has the same luck.

Two little girls are at Christen’s feet; she’s smiling wide while talking to them, signing random objects. Their parents stand a few feet away admiring how excited their little girls are. It’s not so much a burden when you see the affect their favorite athlete has on them. Tobin lingers back to watch. Christen’s eyes twinkle from the overhead halogens, her smile is pure, the way her mouth moves to cover up her laugh—it’s a beautiful moment to witness.

As soon as a dopy smile spreads across Tobin’s face, Christen looks up and finds her staring. Tobin’s heart stalls before it kicks into gear, the sudden bump in her chest pushes a breath out so deep it empties her lungs. Christen keeps her gaze but Tobin bashfully looks down to the floor. The way she feels when Christen looks at her is similar to the feeling she gets before tilting down the peak of a rollercoaster.  
  
Tobin waits patiently for Christen to finish talking to her biggest fans, not wanting to interrupt them. Not long after making eye contact she hears two giggling girls come padding their way over toward her.  
  
“Towbin!” The taller girl getting pulled along recognizes her as soon as she looks up to see where her sister was taking her. They arrive, one bumping into the other, smiling and expectant.  
  
Tobin looks over their heads to Christen, only to find her grinning in mischief.  
  
She sent them over here.  
  
“Cwisten said you play with her on the big team.”  
  
Four brown eyes shine up to her with wild imagination and possibility. She can’t help the laugh that emits but she crouches down and replies seriously, “We play together on the National Team. For the U.S.A”  
  
“And how old are you two?” Tobin pokes the belly of the short one who giggles in return.  
  
“I’m six and Taylow is fower,” she says proudly. Her speech impediment is the cutest thing and Tobin can’t help but love these two already. She looks over at Christen again with big dough eyes, not believing the adorableness in front of her.  
  
“I can say it!” Taylor whines. Her big sister pulls her forward by their joined hands but suddenly the braveness leaves Taylor’s chest and she shrinks back unsure.  
  
“It’s okay Tay, you can say it…” Her big sister is patient and encouraging. Tobin waits and watches the little Taylor step marginally closer. Her soft brown eyes peer under long lashes and she mumbles, “four…” She raises her hand with four chubby fingers.

 

“Well Hi Taylor. I like your shirt. Soccer is my favorite sport.” Tobin tries to calm the girl with a compliment. Her shirt pokes out with her belly under her thick jacket and Tobin tickles the soccer ball.  
  
“Taylor, what’s your awesome big sisters name?”  
  
Tobin notices Christen stride over as she asks the question but keeps her attention on the girls. Taylor has more confidence now that Tobin’s talking to her.  
  
“Tha’s Carey,” She preens on her tiptoes looking up to her big sister.  
  
“Cool! Nice to meet you both.” She takes the sharpie Carey hands her and signs her name next to Christens.  
  
“Are you two from Portland?”  
  
They both shake their heads at the same time.  
  
“We came here to watch Cwisten play!”  
  
“Ohh, so you’re from _Chicaaago_ …” Tobin plays along, feigning to be a true competitor.  
  
“You know my team plays her team this weekend…” She follows up.  
  
“Oh no, yor gonna lose…” Carey says sincerely. Taylor scrunches her eyebrows at her, seemingly intuitive and aware that it was rude to say, but doesn’t say anything silently supporting her sister.

  
Christen laughs out loud a few feet away and Tobin playfully bristles.  
  
“Hey!” She whines, “ I think we have a fighting chance.”  
  
Carey shakes her head, “Not if Cwisten plays.” She unzips her jacket to reveal a Chicago Red Stars jersey with a number 23.  
  
Tobin looks back over to Christen in disbelief and Christen shrugs her shoulders smiling.  
  
“Oh I see, how about this…” She keeps her stare on Christen in challenge, then turns back to continue, “Lead me to your parents and I’ll send you some _proper_ sports gear.”  
  
She sees Christen snicker shaking her head in touché.  
  
Both girls jump up and down, nodding in excitement. Each sister grabs one of her hands and they find their parents with Tobin in tow.  
  
Christen watches from afar admiring the way Tobin handles children. It’s effortless and natural the way she interacts with them, inspiring them with her cool.  
  
Tobin gets their information, says bye to the little girls and jaunts over to Christen in confidence.  
  
“I think I won over Taylor but Casey is a die-hard Christen Press fan. I couldn’t sway her.”  
  
“Are you going to send them Portland gear?” Christen asks as they fall in step toward the car garage.  
  
“Of course I am.” Tobin states, there’s no question about it.  
  
“Well that’s really sweet of you Tobin,” Christen places a hand on her arm in sincerity.  
  
Tobin beams at the touch, feeling the warmth that spreads into her chest from it. All her nerves have turned into eager flutter flies in her stomach and she just smiles in return.  
  
The ride to the hotel was cut short by Christen’s hunger and need for caffeine, so they stop at a near by coffee shop. Luckily no one stopped them inside and they were back on the road with two lattes and pastries galore. Tobin insisted on buying one of each because Christen hesitated for ‘just a millisecond’. But that’s all it took for Tobin to tell the clerk, ‘one of each please.’

 

They fall back into old ways of comfort and ease, talking about their families and how their season has been. Tobin was sweating about nothing and it feels good to be around her positive spirit.

 

 

~*~

 

Christen is sprawled out on her back as she rubs her stomach.  
  
“I’m so full…why did you have to get all of them!”  
  
She whines but turns into the covers not fully committed to her complaint. “Oh my god this bed is like…”She spins around in the bed wrapping herself inside of the fresh cotton wonderland.  
  
“Like you’re inside the dream of a Care Bear?” Tobin finishes for her.  
  
Christen pops her head out from her burrito roll, “You _would_ be one to watch the Care Bears.”  
  
Tobin finishes cleaning up their mess and flops down right next to her, “Excuse me, I loved the Care Bears. It’s why I’m so cool.”  
  
She feels the bed shake slightly from Christen’s giggle, suddenly she’s aware of her proximity and scoots off the bed to find something to do.  
  
“Do you want to watch a movie?” Christen asks, unfurling herself from the duvet.  
  
Tobin shrugs her shoulders, “Sure.”  
  
She feels her staring from the bed but she doesn’t turn to look. She opens and closes the dresser drawers under the T.V. keeping her hands and mind busy. If Christen notices her nerves coming back, she doesn’t say anything. She waits for Tobin to grab the remote and begin browsing their options before speaking.  
  
“Come over here,” Christen’s voice is soft and unsure.  
  
Tobin turns to find Christen sitting against the headboard with pillows set up to support her back and Tobin’s if she joins. She stares at the spot for a second before throwing the remote over to the awaiting girl and turns toward the bathroom.  
  
“I’m going to change first and then I’ll be back,” She calls out.  
  
She’s nervous again and it’s a shame because she was just beginning to relax. The heat of Christen’s gaze reaches the back of her neck and it panics her to rummage through her luggage with empty determination. Why does she have zero control over her hands? Tobin forgets what she’s looking for and doubles the normal time it would have taken her to find a shirt and shorts.  
  
After finally settling on an old tar heels shirt and some boxers, Tobin steals a glance at the brunette on the bed before hustling to the bathroom.  
  
She’s still staring.  
  
The air is turning thin around her and the oxygen in the bathroom must be more abundant. That’s why she’s practically running—at least that’s what she tells herself. She makes it in the bathroom, shuts the door and takes a deep breath, making her dizzy at first but she grips the counter causing her clothes to fall to the tile. Clenching her jaw, she turns the water on just in case she’s making too much noise. It’s embarrassing how much of an affect Christen has on her. Unseen forces reach inside pulling her heart and lungs against her ribcage. If she isn’t careful she’s sure they’ll be pulled out onto the floor, gross and desperate.  
  
Tobin looks at herself in the mirror and thinks about who she is. Skimming over every feature, she tells herself that she’s great and that she has control. Nothing should scare her this much and she convinces herself of being ridiculous. With a triumphant grunt, she picks up her clothes and changes quickly. It’s already been too long and she still has to use the restroom.  
  
The room is dark when she walks out of the bathroom. It confuses her but she soldiers on, dropping her old clothes next to her bag, she makes her way further in the room. A movie is already playing with Christen wrapped up under the covers.  
  
Tobin clears her throat; “I see you’ve made yourself comfortable.”  
  
Christen smiles in return, once again patting the spot next to her. It doesn’t seem that she’s ever nervous, always in control of her body and emotions. It puts envy inside of Tobin, that she’s able to look so calm— _be_ so calm. It’s one of the many things that she likes about her.  
  
Tobin smiles as she pulls the covers back and slides into clouds. She makes sure there is plenty of room between them, feeling the edge of the bed with her fingers.  
  
“What movie did you choose?” She asks, chancing a glance to her left.  
  
She sees naked collarbones and it makes her double take. Clearing her throat she darts her eyes up to meet kind green ones looking right at her.  
  
_Oh man, did she notice?_ Tobin hopes like hell she didn’t see the downward path her eyes made before making it up to her face.  
  
“I chose Hocus Pocus, I hope that’s ok,” she says through an innocent grin.  
  
Tobin lights up, “I love this movie!” She scoots down further, snuggling into the pillows Christen expertly set up.  
  
“Me too!” Christen concurs. She sings Winifred’s classic line, “Booook.” And they break into a fit of laughter.  
  
Unbeknownst to Tobin, while she was in the bathroom Christen rushed around the room making sure the mood was right; turning off all the lights, changing and making the bed just how she wanted it. Christen is just as nervous as Tobin, in fact she is sure she’s more nervous because of her neurosis. She understands her anxiety and she’s managed it very well for the past few years. But when it comes to Tobin, it gets away from her and she doesn’t want Tobin to see her when she’s at her worst. Her fear is that she’d scare Tobin away with her issues—that’s what they called it when she was little—and now that she’s older, she’s convinced it’s chronic.  
  
“You want a drink from the mini bar?” Christen croaks out.  
  
Tobin grins, the tension in the room is apparent but she wades through it with as much style as she can. She likes the charge in her fingertips and wouldn’t mind the help in relaxing.  
  
“Sure, surprise me?” Tobin doesn’t get up; in fact she nestles in further communicating to her that she isn’t getting up.  
  
She watches Christen slowly get out of bed and that’s when she swallows her tongue. Christen is wearing a tank top without a bra and the shortest shorts she’s ever seen—she wouldn’t even call them shorts, it’s underwear.  
  
Tobin grips the duvet up to her chin, groaning at the saunter of her hips as she makes her way over to the mini bar. Her legs are long, smooth and tan. The skin is expansive; Tobin can’t look at her without seeing golden hues beam off of her. It’s like watching a parade on skin—moving across the room, waving at her, encouraging her to participate.  
  
The warmth spreading down her stomach can’t be denied causing her to squirm in bed to extinguish it. She has to bite her lip and cross her legs in fear of looking indecent when Christen turns around. The light from the T.V. bounces off her curvaceous ass, it illuminates the best parts of her body and Tobin can’t look away. It’s too delicious and rare to not appreciate the beauty of this woman. All her rules and regulations fly out the window and it’s replaced with dark desire. She’s only human and humans need contact. Before she snaps out of her fantasy, Christen is turning around and bounding toward her with two ready-made drinks.  
  
“I hope rum and Coke is all right.” She kneels on the bed on one knee leaning over to hand Tobin her drink.  
  
But Tobin doesn’t move, the sheets are crumpled up in her fists covering half her face, her eyes peer over the edge absorbing Christen’s body in. Her cleavage is in perfect view.  
  
Finally she woman’s up and reaches out for the offered beverage, “thanks.”

 

“Don’t spill,” Christen mothers.  
  
Tobin adoringly laughs, “You know, I bet these sheets aren’t even that clean…” Tobin takes a sip (it’s insanely strong) and she tries not to cough it everywhere. She was _just_ told not to spill any.  
  
Christen shakes her head until she swallows her first sip (apparently not strong enough, getting up to pour more rum in it). “No—don’t even say that. This is a nice hotel, I’m sure they have a sheet testing monitor to check every room.” She nods, convincing herself that it’s fact.  
  
Tobin lets her have that comforting yet ridiculous thought—they could have a sheet monitor—and she doesn’t tease her further. Besides she’s enjoying ignorant bliss in these sheets too.

~*~

  
  
They drink two more beverages before the movie credits roll on the screen.  
  
“You never told me that you were almost arrested!” Christen swats Tobin’s shoulder.  
  
“Ouch!” Tobin exclaims, rubbing the spot in faux pain.  
  
“That did _not_ hurt…” Concern still etches Christen’s face and she reaches out to rub her shoulder anyway. They’ve inched closer through out the movie and now they’re close enough that if Tobin wanted to, she could rest her head on Christen’s shoulder.  
  
Tobin closes her eyes, tilts her head back, and smiles at the contact. She doesn’t drink often and the rum and Cokes she’s had settles in her blood. The atmosphere of the room is cozy and comforting. Christen’s presence is not intimidating anymore making Tobin more confident than normal.  
  
“That feels nice…” She hums.  
  
With her eyes closed, she doesn’t see the way Christen’s mouth falls open at the bob of her throat, or the way she licks her lips at the sight of a long exposed neck.  
  
“Would you like a massage?” Christen asks softly.  
  
Tobin’s smile disappears but her eyes remain closed in fear of revealing what that question did to her. Her pupils are definitely dilated.  
  
“Yeah,” Tobin dares to answer. She wants a massage, especially from Christen.  
  
“Ok, lay on your stomach.”  
  
Tobin’s breathing turns laborious, is this happening, what exactly is happening—she questions if this is a good idea but decides to go with the flow—it’s already happening.  
  
Tobin’s on her stomach and Christen is moving.  
  
_Fuck._  
  
If she’d known Christen was going to straddle her, she would have probably forgone the massage. The clenching of her core comes when Christen’s smooth legs brace her sides and it sends shock waves down her spine when she feels her lean forward to squeeze her shoulders. A tiny noise escapes her lips causing Christen to stop.  
  
“Is this ok?”  
  
Tobin isn’t sure. Is it ok? She is undeniably turned on and if she allows her to continue, will she manage? She tries to push the image of Christen’s ass in those shorts and the exposed lithe legs currently wrapped around her out of her head. Because Tobin doesn’t respond right away, she feels Christen lean further into her to gauge her facial expression.  
  
“Tobin?”  
  
And holy mother Mary, Tobin feels her chest push against her back with supple resistance; her lips hover close to her face, her smell fills Tobin’s nose—lavender and soap. It’s all too overwhelming, so she replies a little louder than she intended, “Ok!”  
  
Christen flinches back a few inches, startled by her abrupt reply.  
  
“I’m sorry,” Tobin clears her throat for good measure, “This is ok, yes.”  
  
Satisfied, Christen sits back up and begins. She kneads Tobin’s shoulders before gliding her hands down her back and up again. Each time she does this, she leans her body into her motions causing her hot center to rock against Tobin’s back. Somehow her shirt gets pulled up and she can’t focus on anything other than the pressure building up in her belly. White-hot sparks shoot through her pelvis and down to her toes as they curl in vein. The gentle tap of Christen’s crotch on her lower back causes whimpers to build up in her throat, only to come out like a cry when she exhales. Christen doesn’t stop this time, perfectly aware of what she’s doing. The sounds only motivate her to increase her efforts.  
  
She uses Tobin’s lower back to support her weight as she scoots her ass over the arch of Tobin’s ass and onto her thighs.  
  
Tobin lays still and lets her do whatever she wants, intrigued as to what will happen next. The way Christen is breathing on top of her, she can tell she’s enjoying herself too. At least that’s what Tobin hopes the heavy breathing means.  
  
Christen continues her ministrations, sliding her palms up from her lower back all the way to her shoulder blades, pushing her shirt up as she goes. Tobin shivers momentarily as the cool air of the room hits her back, but Christen’s warm hands quickly abates her and she settles even deeper in the bed. This is heavenly—she smiles into the pillow at how she feels. It’s sensational and she doesn’t want it to end.  
  
Christen’s fingers are strong and they find Tobin’s sore spots with ease.  
  
She’s really good with her hands.  
  
She likes the way her fingers linger at her sides and at the hem of her shorts. She finds it daring and sexy. The primal need to be touched takes over her body and she can’t help the lift of her ass every so often, wanting more.  
  
She swears she can feel Christen ungulate her hips in response and it spurs more noise out of her.  
  
“Does this feel good?” The silk of her voice reaches Tobin’s ear while she drags her fingers up her sides and edges along the sides of her breasts.  
  
“myeah…” Tobin hoarsely replies, her hands firmly grip at her sides, “ _so_ good.”  
  
Christen continues to push and pull at her back getting braver with every minute that goes by. Her hands drop lower and then lower, and just when Tobin doesn’t think she’d go lower, her fingers grip the edge of her ass. She lingers without pressure, making sure it’s not unwanted, and then she squeezes and kneads at the large muscle.  
  
Tobin squeals at the surprising feeling, it tickles her beyond control and she flips around so fast Christen doesn’t even move from her spot.  
  
“That tickled!” Tobin explains, not realizing that she’s now on her back with Christen still straddling her thighs.  
  
Christen sits frozen with her hands up in the air. She has full view of Tobin’s taut abdominal muscles, her shirt scrunched up to her chest. Tobin notices her gaze and flexes to see how she reacts. Christen’s eyes go wide and her mouth falls open. In this moment, Tobin feels a surge of confidence and lifts her hips. “You, uh, enjoying yourself?”  
  
Christen seems to break from her daze and a bright blush spreads from her cheeks down her neck. “Oh,” she flusters and lifts herself off, “I’m sorry.”  
  
Shy looks so stunning on her and she actually lies on her back and starts whispering to herself. Tobin thinks she’s reprimanding herself but she can’t hear her well enough to be sure.  
  
She takes pity on her and turns to her side so she’s facing her, “It’s ok. I liked it.”  
  
Christen takes a deep breath and closes her eyes before turning her head to look over. She looks so vulnerable that it’s cute. But once she gets confirmation that Tobin enjoyed it, her look changes. “You’re really soft.”  
  
Tobin smiles, “yeah?”  
  
They speak in whispers, comforting each other in this exposed moment.  
  
Christen nods, “yeah. Like really _really_ soft.”  
  
“I bet you’re just as soft as me.”  
  
“No, definitely not,” she shakes her head.  
  
Tobin admires her eyes, nose and lips. Nodding her head, she replies, “yes probably so.”  
  
Christen shakes her head childishly back and forth.  
  
“Turn over then.” Tobin demands.  
  
Deer eyes stare at her for reassurance before she complies, slowly turning on her stomach. She hears a shaky breath and reaches out a hand to rub her back over her shirt. Easing her into the feeling and giving her time to adjust. She knows how it feels and it’s a lot at once. Tobin scoots closer after a few circles and makes her way to the bottom edge of the fabric.  
  
“Is this ok?” She echoes the question as Christen did before, gripping at the hem of her tank top.  
  
“Yes.”  
  
The sound of another wavering exhale gives Tobin motivation to draw more sounds from her. She sidles flush up to Christen’s side, not brave enough to straddle her, and begins rubbing her bare back.  
  
“I was right…” Tobin whispers, her hand exploring the dimples and dunes of her back. She dares to lean in close to her ear to drive the message home, “You’re _so_ soft.”  
  
And she gets her wish when Christen whines in the back of throat. Her core clenches again and it’s then she realizes how turned on she is.  


~*~

  
  
They end up cuddling, not for the first time but for the second. Which for Tobin, it feels like the first time—the very first time. She feels like she’s back in high school, sleeping in the same bed as her best friend whom she had feelings for. She would always turn away, afraid of revealing too much—doing too much—and falling asleep last, if at all.

Tobin ends up as little spoon with Christen close behind her. They are both tired from the day and completely relaxed after their traded massages.

Christen’s arm has yet to make it all the way around her; she just has her hand over her hip above the covers. It’s innocent enough but it inches forward. Tobin wishes she would do it already.  
  
She has to wake up early and takes comfort in the way the night went, thinking it was winding down. It was perfect.  
  
They shift and wiggle, settling in for the night.  
  
Or so Tobin thought.  
  
Christen nuzzles further up to Tobin’s back seeking to vanquish any space that’s left over. She dares to put her lips dangerously close to Tobin’s neck, tickling the small hairs that reside there, but she doesn’t make contact. Tobin squeezes her legs together as Christen hovers close breathing gently, like a breeze on a flower. The goose bumps that arrive on Tobin’s neck spread down her back and she can’t help but squirm. This girl is slowly killing her resolve; she can’t expect to behave if this persists.  
  
It’s an overwhelming blanket of comfort and arousal. Tobin can only shut her eyes and focus on every touch and sound she hears. It’s like listening to the quiet parts of a symphony, barely audible but if you close your eyes, you can see. Eventually Tobin answers the knock behind her knees, scoots back far enough to allow Christen’s leg in between her own. They’re getting more comfortable with one another but Christen is the more daring one.  
  
Christen’s arm finally makes it’s way around her torso and encircles her in a tight embrace. They haven’t stopped moving since Tobin became little spoon. It’s a slow motion fast paced dance that won’t stop sending charges down the expanse of Tobin’s skin. The moment Christen’s thigh taps against her center she mewls. They slot together with no resistance, like they belong together. She wants to be closer and judging by Christen’s arm now fully wrapped around her, she does too. She can feel Christen smile on her neck when she lowers her thigh from the action, getting the reaction she wanted.  
  
She did that on purpose.  
  
_Oh god._ Tobin can’t catch her breath fast enough; her micro movements are unbeknownst to her, a faint repetitive squirm of her hips wanting to rub herself on Christen’s thigh. She feels so many things at once: relaxed yet tense, confident yet shy, and turned-on yet childishly comforted. Tobin welcomes all experiences and she enjoys the spectrum of emotion but she’s never felt anything like this.  
  
It’s a white light inside of her, burning at just the right temperature to be dangerous but not hot enough to harm. It breaks through all the walls that hold Tobin together and it tumbles down into a growl in her belly when Christen presses her lips to the delicate skin behind her ear. Tobin can’t help the guttural sound that escapes her. It’s a mixture of a growl and a moan. She closes her lips to breathe out of her nose, trying to regulate her system—trying to not make that sound again.  
  
She grows tenser at every move Christen makes. It’s like she can feel the ebb and flow of their bodies, moving together, but they’re so mild she can’t be sure. She tributes their heated spirit to the libations they had earlier but she’s in complete control. The desperation feels liquid between them and they’re both drowning. One touch of her lips unlocks her resolve, crumbling under her touch and she doesn’t care anymore. She can do anything she wants to her.  
  
She wants it.  
  
Christen’s leg is margins away from her aching epicenter—knocking into it—pulling away—grazing back for more—and Tobin longs to abate the building pressure, she wants more consistence, she wants to lean into it.  
  
She wants to feel how needy Christen is too but she stays perfectly still. She can’t move and doesn’t dare push back.  
  
“Tobin?” Christen’s voice is strained and searching. She’s struggling too. Her mouth is so close to Tobin’s ear that she feels the heat of her tongue as she licks her lips.

She doesn’t trust her voice. She curls her lips into her mouth, forbidding them to betray her and squeezes her eyes tight. “Hmm?”

Instead of replying, Christen shuffles even closer. Slow enough for Tobin to say stop if she doesn’t want it.  
  
Tobin listens to the screaming sensation inside of her to accept everything given, take when gotten—go get it if you want it—stop being a fool—make a move!  
  
Tobin scoots back to meet Christen’s efforts, her ass gently grooving into Christen’s welcoming hips. As soon as the expanse of Christen’s thigh hits the soaked fabric of Tobin’s shorts, she hears it—the deliciously quiet moan that resonates in Christen’s throat. They’re a tangled mess of limbs now pushing into each other with more gusto.  
  
She can’t help but let her mouth fall open—she needs more air, it’s becoming too much. Her heart pounds without her permission; she wants to whine, tell her to stop—or keep going—she isn’t sure anymore—god it’s intense. This slow pull of her core and the gradual push of Christen’s leg sends her to the moon and back in the blink of an eye.  
  
“ _Fuck_ ” she whispers, clenching the sheets in front of her until her knuckles turn white. She fights the urge to rock back against her harder but she’s positive it’ll turn into sex really fast and she’s sure they aren’t ready for that. The heavy breaths against Tobin’s ear grow so erratic; she can’t help but whimper back at every faint grunt she hears in them.  
  
“Tobin” Christen softly says again but this time it sounds like a plea.

She feels the heat of Christen’s core on the back of her thigh—her movement more evident now, rubbing for release. Tobin groans into her pillow imagining the girl rutting into her fully—not at this timid pace.  
  
She imagines the sounds she would make and how her face would light up in brilliance when she comes.  
  
Tobin still can’t believe this is happening, nothing like this has happened between them. And because they haven’t kissed yet, this feels even more sinful than it is. The last time they cuddled was a drunken night after a celebration dinner on the national team. That didn’t stop her from fantasizing and yet this is nothing in comparison.  
  
Hot flashes burst in her abdomen like fireworks. It motivates her to make her next move and Tobin does something daring. To test the waters, she arches her back pushing her ass backwards a few inches and then rubbing herself down the length of Christen’s thigh.  
  
The reaction is almost obscene. Christen keens deliciously into her neck; her arm tightens, grasping at Tobin’s chest. She moans fully into her ear and returns the gesture by rocking into her from behind. With newfound vigor, Christen’s lips gain more confidence and latches onto Tobin’s ear lobe.  
  
“Tobin” She whines, sucking and licking.  
  
The fact she’s using her name as a mantra along with this pitchy whine reels the line inside of Tobin until it breaks. The surge of heat explodes in her belly, her eyes fly open and she can’t swallow enough spit to wet her dry throat. She feels like she’s already on the verge of coming. It’s too intense, too much, too soon and she can’t fight off the bat of nerves covering her in panic.  
  
She retracts, turning her shoulder into Christen’s chest instigating a bit of distance.  
  
“Chris?” She seeks for green eyes. She wants to see her and gauge the room but she finds something she didn’t expect. Her eyes are black and full of want; she looks the complete opposite of sweet innocence that describes her everyday. The crack from the curtain gives enough light for her to see Christen’s needy eyebrows, her half-shut eyes and pouty lips.  
  
“What—“ she clears her throat, “what are we doing?” she whispers.

She’s drunk either on rum or on Christen and she can’t trust herself to do what’s right. She questions if Christen’s drunk too and wants to make sure this is kosher.

Christen takes a breath to control her response. She uses this moment to cool down. Tobin observes her while she threads her fingers through her hair—she seems just as flustered.  
  
“Cuddling?” She questions coyly.

Tobin gives her an incredulous look.  
  
“Sorry,” Christen says dejectedly and rolls onto her back leaving Tobin cold and regretful. Tobin follows suit and lies on her back, not sure what to do. But her eyes are glued to the side of Christen’s face.  
  
Was it too soon? She isn’t sure.  
  
Has the build up of the past few years led to this exact moment and the sexual tension they feel is appropriate? Maybe.  
  
Does she regret stopping it from going any further? Definitely.

Tobin gauges her, afraid she messed everything up.  
  
She watches Christen’s jaw as it clenches and unclenches.  
  
She watches her chest rise and fall.  
  
She’s upset.

Tobin can tell, so she dampens her nerves and rolls over on her elbow toward her. With the back of her hand she caresses Christen’s cheek, “Hey…”  
  
She waits for her to respond and when she feels her turn her head into her hand she continues, “I didn’t say I didn’t like it.”  
  
At this, Christen turns her head causing Tobin to retract her hand. They lie face to face in the dark, consumed by each other’s presence. It’s intoxicating being around her. Tobin can feel the shift in her sobriety every time she’s near. And the fact that she’s someone who gets to see Christen like this, in the middle of the night, makes her one of the luckiest on earth. They stare at each other, both trying to read into something more, trying to find truth.  
  
Flashes of her gasps and clenching hands pop into Tobin’s head as she stares back into her eyes. She can’t help but think about it; the sound of her, the feel of her, and the way she took control. She loses herself in Christen for a moment—breathing her in—taking her in. With every slow beat of her heart she notices something new about her face that she loves. She adores the slope of her nose, the dip above her lip, her perfect eyebrows and the way her lashes lay in abundance above orbs that carry the sea.  
  
She’s worth any struggle that plagues Tobin’s mind and heart.  
  
“I haven’t done this in awhile,” Tobin confesses in the silence.  
  
Christen squints her eyes and looks at her with disbelief. Tobin responds by shrugging her shoulders and falling onto her back again. She’s not who everyone thinks she is—a wanton womanizer—she’s actually quite conservative with herself. It’s easier to allow people to assume than correct them. Tobin doesn’t mind the reputation that precedes her, it affords her the protection—it allowed her to keep to herself.

Christen stares at her for a moment, clearly confused. “What about that girl after the world cup finals?”

  
Tobin’s hands rest on her stomach above the duvet, fingers prudently threaded together. She looks at Christen without recollection. “Who?”  
  
“The girl you left the bar with when we all went out?” Christen raises her eyebrows, wrinkling her forehead, trying to get her to remember. She amends when Tobin still looks confused, “Alex wasn’t that worried about you and alerted everyone that you were making out with her in the bathroom and to not look for you.”  
  
Tobin thinks about that night, going through it in her head and then it hits her. “Oh”  
  
“yeah…” Christen thinks she’s pegged it. Tobin is slightly disappointed that Christen thought the same as everyone else but she understands how she could.  
  
Tobin replies at the ceiling nonplussed, “It didn’t happen like that, Alex was drunk and didn’t see what she thought she saw.”  
  
“What happened then?”  
  
The ceiling still holds Tobin’s gaze as she recalls that night. Alex wanted Tobin to get laid; she pushed her toward every girl that even looked her way. She wasn’t sure why that night in particular sticks out but she always encouraged Tobin to do things like that.  
  
“She came onto me in the bathroom and I kissed her back for a second, which is when Alex walked out of the stall. But I stopped it as soon as Alex left. I told her I needed air and she followed me.” Tobin glances over to see Christen leaning on her elbow invested in every word. “I…then told her I was not available and went for a walk.”  
  
“By yourself in a foreign country?”  
  
“Canada is hardly foreign,” Tobin lightly chuckles.  
  
“But everyone thought—

“Everyone thinks what they want to think,” she interrupts.  
  
Christen scrunches dispirited at her tone. She didn’t mean to assume, she saw Tobin leave the bar with that girl not far behind her. So she put two and two together and was jealously wrong.  
  
“Oh.”

“Besides, that was two years ago. ”

Christen realized that after she asked but that day always bothered her. She loved the connection they had after the game. They were both so happy and celebrating the victory with Tobin was exhilarating because she chose to be around her out of Alex and Lauren and everyone. And when Tobin left the bar with that girl—she hated to admit— it chiseled a piece of her heart away.  
  
“Why did you tell her you weren’t available?”

Tobin shrugs her shoulders and refuses to answer the question verbally. She can tell Christen is dying to ask a million questions, so she waits patiently for each one. She’s just not ready to talk about that particular subject.  
  
“Ask me anything you want Chris, I don’t mind that you’re interested.”  
  
Tobin turns her head to observe Christen. She crumples under the pressure of Tobin’s eyes, and embarrassingly shoves her face into her arms and mumbles, “how about that girl you were skateboarding with all the time in Portland?”  
  
“Sloan?” Tobin smiles at the cute display of jealous interrogation.  
  
“Yeah, you two were close.” She says, her head still buried.  
  
“Just friends.”  
  
This news was hard to swallow for Christen because she assumed Tobin was constantly involved with someone. It discouraged her from expressing any interest at all and it turns out she’s been the one in her own way. She burrows in further, completely stumped of this news, that Tobin hasn’t been so illusive and unavailable as she thought. She’s always felt her chances were slim to none but dammit, if she tried _maybe_ things would be different.

  
“How long has it been then…?” Christen looks up over her arm to peak at how Tobin answers this question.  
  
“That doesn’t matter, all that matters is that I’m not good at this.”  
  
Green eyes fully reveal themselves, “and what is _this_ exactly?” Christen asks.  
  
Tobin can’t say she’s surprised at the question; she walked right into that one.  
  
She means she’s not good at intimacy or relationships in general but words evade her right now. She isn’t sure what this is and labeling it now—when it’s so new, it’s impossible.  
  
“uh…” Tobin tries to speak but a static line displays across her brain.  
  
“Never mind, sorry—I didn’t mean—I was just wondering but I know it’s nothing—I mean it’s not nothing—it’s too early to know…” Christen nervously back tracks and adorably speaks with her hands.  
  
“Chris”  
  
Christen zips her lips and looks at Tobin with sinfully sad eyes.  
  
“It’s ok,” Tobin rests her hand on her forearm, “I just don’t have an answer right now. Do you?”  
  
Christen thinks about it and slowly shakes her head.  
  
“And that’s ok because we like being around each other—“ Tobin looks for confirmation.  
  
Christen nods her head.  
  
“—and we have fun—“  
  
She nods her head again.  
  
“—then that’s all that matters.” Tobin squeezes her arm for good measure. Christen is someone who needs reassurances because her mind runs away from her. It’s endearing and Tobin enjoys being someone who can balance her out. Once she gets her footing, Christen is a force to be reckoned with. She’s a dominant person on the field and super supportive off it.  
  
“Can I ask one more question?”  
  
Tobin nods, “Shoot.”  
  
She watches as Christen looks down at the mattress, building courage to ask the thing she’s been wondering about.  
  
“Why did you stop us…did I go too far?”  
  
Christen twirls her finger at the clump of sheet between them. As soon as she lets the last word fall she looks up under her brow, looking innocent as usual.  
  
Tobin would tell her she’s utterly adorable but she can hear the vulnerability in her voice, so she smiles instead. Christen is shy and curious, and her body language tells her she isn’t all that sorry that she went for it.  
  
She observes the color of green and grey in her eyes, remembering when they looked black. It’s not all innocence behind those eyes and she wants to see more.  
  
Tobin decides to have some fun. She leans back and moves both of her hands behind her head, elbows spread out in faux confidence. “ I wouldn’t say that…” She flirts.  
  
Christen’s finger stops momentarily before continuing to swirl the sheets, brave enough now to move closer.  
  
“Oh?” She moves her finger to Tobin’s stomach.  
  
Tobin watches as her finger makes wrinkles in her shirt and just like she hopes, the cunning dark stir is back in her eyes. This girl is wild and unpredictable; Tobin thinks to herself, she’s always after what she wants despite her vulnerability. That’s brave and sexy as hell.  
  
She stays silent, watching Christen explore her boundaries—hoping she’d push them again. She can’t keep up with the wind that shifts inside her, one moment she wants it all and the next it’s too much. But that’s the rush Tobin loves, her adrenaline pumps so fast she fears losing control but then it settles and she seeks for it again. She feels like that while skating, surfing, climbing and now with Christen.  
  
  
First it was her finger, now it’s her palm. Tobin still doesn’t move as she flattens her hand and palms her stomach reaching over to her sides and up close to her breasts.  
  
Every move she makes she increases the intensity.  
  
Tobin plays the game and watches, staying completely still.  
  
Christen looks up at her every time she crosses a boundary she thinks is there. But Tobin is patient and determined to keep still, no matter how much she struggles to react.  
  
Eventually, Christen grows impatient.  
  
She want’s a reaction out of this girl, so she increases the ante.  
  
From her ministrations, she pushes Tobin’s shirt up her waist exposing her abs for her to admire. At least she can get a better view, even if Tobin refuses to move.  
  
The stark contrast of her hot skin to the brisk air helps Tobin stay calm but the clouds still come fogging over her mind.  
  
Christen starts caressing her side, then over her stomach and to then to the other across her body. She makes sure she touches every part of her exposed stomach. The feel of her touch, the stare of her eyes, and even the smell of her breath contribute in pulling the looming wool over Tobin’s logical eyes.  
  
This is pure emotion.  
  
She feels her nipples harden and that’s when she can’t take it anymore.  
  
She wants it—she wants her.  
  
Tobin swiftly lifts her head, lunges forward, wraps her long fingers around Christen’s arm and yanks her forward. The startled girl falls into her chest with a yelp, her wrist taken over and held against the headboard above their heads.  
  
Their faces are closer than they’ve ever been.  
  
Their hearts race faster than they’ve ever run.  
  
Tobin’s other arm snakes behind her back and she pushes her thigh in between Christen’s legs lifting her further up her body. All of this happens within a few seconds and Christen can barely comprehend how she got here, on top of Tobin.  
  
The sudden friction on Christen’s core causes her to hum in her throat and they lock eyes, reveling in the sounds.  
  
They fit together without even trying.  
  
Tobin licks her lips and breathes out through her nose. She wants Christen to make a noise she won’t forget.  
  
She allows Christen time to adjust to the new position but she doesn’t let her wrist go, she doesn’t give up control.  
  
She feels her finally relax, settling her hips as far into Tobin as they’ll go.  
  
“You enjoy teasing me?” Tobin taunts, her lips almost touching hers. She pushes her hips so minutely that she isn’t sure Christen felt it, but the noticeable shift in her breathing tells Tobin everything. She slides her unoccupied hand over her lower back, encouraging Christen to move on her if she wanted—use her if she wanted.  
  
When she doesn’t move right way, Tobin lifts her leg into her. Christen’s eyes roll under her eyelids at the feeling of a long desperate need being fulfilled. She’s wanted Tobin for a long time and it’s finally coming—she wants it to come—she wants to come.  
  
Christen drops her face into Tobin’s neck and rocks into her fully. The desire gets the best of her and she does it again—and again—three times before she needs to stop and catch her breath.  
  
Tobin’s mouth falls open at the sight of Christen’s ass rising and falling as she ruts against her. It’s insanely sexy.  
  
Christen is unabashed and ready. She breathes so hard Christen rises with the height of her chest.  
  
Tobin cascades her hand from holding Christen’s wrist down her arm, along her side and stops before reaching her shorts. She holds her there; with both hands on her lower back drinking her in, feeling the heat of her core.  
  
Her fingertips graze under the hem, wanting to touch more, asking for permission to explore further.  
  
Christen tells her it’s okay by rocking into her again with a, “ _yeah_.”  
  
Tobin can’t think anymore with this needy and pliant girl writhing on her.  
  
All she can focus on is the sounds Christen’s making and the damp heat sliding up and down her thigh. It’s like riding a perfect wave, hoping it never ends and it lasting longer than thought possible, barreling overhead threatening to crash down but stays steady the whole way—just perfect.  
  
She watches Christen ride her slowly before she decides to help.  
  
Tobin pushes her hand under her shorts and palms a perfect swell. She groans at the feel of her ass filling her hand, it’s everything she imagined— tight, pliant, and thick. She pulls her forward with a firm grip, urging Christen to continue working.  
  
Heavy breathing and stuttering whimpers fill the space in her neck, Christen buried herself there when Tobin pinched her ass cheek. She moans with every breath now and it tickles Tobin’s neck into a burning rebellion in her center.  
  
Realizing she can’t see her face, Tobin turns her cheek hoping Christen will understand and look up—she does.  
  
And oh fuck does Tobin whine at the sight.  
  
Once she sees the drooping need in Christen’s eyes, her own falls to pink lips and she finds them open and wanting.  
  
Tobin opens her mouth in return, desperate and drooling to taste her cries. They’re so close that they swallow each other’s breaths, still sweet and rum laced. They breathe each other in as Christen continues to grind.  
  
Every time Christen sinks into her she makes a sound, every one of them growing hungrier.  
  
It’s time for Tobin to act on every impulse she has.  
  
She’s too forgone to care; Christen is too damn gorgeous to deny.  
  
She reaches her hand deeper into Christen’s shorts pulling her ass harder.  
  
_“Yeah, that’s it.”_ Tobin praises. _  
_  
They start a rhythm; after Tobin pulls, Christen pushes her hips back down. The room shrinks in size, her mind spins in euphoric circles, undulating and throbbing. It’s her core that sends this information to her brain—she needs friction too.  
  
Tobin grows eager and she reaches past the curve of Christen’s ass and accidently dips into warmth.  
  
_Oh.  
  
_ Tobin gasps and Christen’s head falls back. _  
_  
She’s dripping wet; it awakens Tobin’s primal instinct to just ravage her. She surges forward and grips Christen into a searing kiss. Eager teeth find each other, yearning tongues wrap around each other, and moans become a common currency between them.  
  
Christen falters in her movements when she tastes Tobin’s tongue in her mouth. At first it was devouring, both releasing whatever animal instinct they were trapping. But it slowly turns into something else.  
  
Tobin bites her lip in return and starts raising her hips to meet Christen’s every move. Their kiss transforms into languid licks and nips. It’s still passionate but their focus is on the sting of hips and rubbing clits. Tobin allows her other hand to wander past her shorts to assist in her thrusts while the brave hand doesn’t move from the dangerous proximity to Christen’s entrance.  
  
There’s no going back from here—she takes a deep breath and goes for it.  
  
She teases her first, by tapping her finger at the wet opening, watching Christen’s face.  
  
Christen makes an unrecognizable, “ehh” sound to the intrusion. She clenches at every movement of Tobin’s fingers and wiggles for more. She soon realizes she’s being played with and bites Tobin’s lip hard before shoving her own leg deep against Tobin’s crotch, hoping to—

“ _Ahh”  
_  
Tobin pushes her finger further in retaliation. Christen lets go of Tobin’s lip and moans into her mouth at the sensation. Her eyebrows stitch together and she slides herself backwards, forcing Tobin inside.  
  
Tobin’s jaw drops— she’s wide eyed and knuckle deep.  
  
Christen’s warm walls pulse around her. She gives her finger a slight curl and Christen pushes down into it crying out in pleasure.  
  
It empowers Tobin to pull out and push back in.  
  
Christen’s eyes snap open and she grabs Tobin’s face into a devouring kiss. This is sex. This is Tobin inside of her and she can’t believe how good it feels. The kiss is maddening, she bites and yanks at Tobin’s lips until they’re red and sore.  
  
Her hips shake from needing more but she wants Tobin to do it.  
  
“Tobin—“ Christen breaks away, breathless and throbbing.  
  
Tobin slides her mouth over hers, tracing over them to change the angle of their kiss. The heat building up in between her legs tells her what she wants next and Tobin pulls out of the kiss to begin her assault on Christen’s neck and collarbones. The salt of her skin spreads on her tongue and she hasn’t tasted anything better.  
  
The whirring of the air condition does little to mask the noises emanating from their room.  
  
The relentless attack Christen returns on her neck is distracting her from her own exploration. The lick of the darker girl’s tongue after she bites into her drives Tobin crazy—crazy enough to flip her over in one determined motion.  
  
The sudden emptiness Christen feels is upsetting and she whines at the absence of Tobin inside her. But welcomes her in top of her with desperate arms.

  
Tobin didn’t mean to take it this far; she wasn’t ready for sex. She wanted it to be special, to mean something. This feels rushed and sloppy but blissfully right. She has no doubt this is special already but she wants more for Christen. She wants her to know how much she truly means and not be diminished in any way. Tobin thinks about it and she knows Christen will think back on this later and think that it was cheap. She’ll over think it and question her value.  
  
She pulls Christen’s shirt down and takes a long deep breath.  
  
Looking down at her splayed out over white sheets is ethereal, it feels like a blessing, but she can’t take it any further. She realizes this a little too late.  
  
Sex changes people, and Tobin knows that more than anyone.  
  
Christen huffs out in frustration; realizing the look on Tobin’s face is not of desire but of resignation.  
  
Tobin rubs her face with one hand as the other focuses on Christen, rubbing comforting circles with her thumb on her side.  
  
She wants to apologize but she isn’t sorry it happened.  
  
She can’t wrap her head around the energy between them that led them here. The smell of her arousal lingers on her finger and it’s heady; she shamelessly brings it to her nose.  
  
“Wow,” Christen breaths, finally letting what just happened sink in. She leans back into the pillows and closes her eyes.  
  
Tobin grins, “yeah…” She rolls off and lands on her back.  
  
They lay on their backs, staring at the ceiling as they each catch their breath. Their chests rise and fall together.  
  
“Chris…” she pants.  
  
“Hmm?”  
  
“I want you to know that I want to try.”  
  
Christen turns her head and they share a look.  
  
She remains silent so Tobin finishes her thought.  
  
“I want to try with you. I want to do this right and if this is something you want then we should wait—

“I know…” Christen interrupts, “we _should_ wait.”  
  
It was comforting to hear her agree, she just doesn’t want to rush into things. There are priorities that cause her to consider the consequences: the national team, her group of friends—their friendship, her focus on recovery. She isn’t used to compromising those things for the sake of feelings, let alone another person’s. But this is different and she’s willing to try.  
  
“I’m sorry I’m not there yet,” Tobin offers, turning over to slide her fingers into Christen’s hand.

Christen reaches over, curling some loose hair behind her ear. “It’s ok. I’ll wait.” She caresses her cheek and finds that her skin is softer than she imagined. Her rough callouses sigh at the give of her skin.  
  
“You’re so soft” she whispers like it’s a precious secret but one they share often.  
  
“So are you.”  
  
Tobin leans over and presses her lips to soft pliable ones. She reassures her with her tongue and sooths her with trailing kisses down her cheek to her neck.  
  
She plays with the sensitive skin before setting her head down on Christen’s pillow.  
  
Before she can get too comfortable Christen lifts her head.  
  
When Tobin opens her eyes to see why, she see’s puckered lips and expectant eyes.  
  
Giggling she gives in and kisses them again.  
  
With a satisfied hum, Christen puts her head back down and closes her eyes.  
  
“Goodnight Tobin.”  
  
“Night Chris.”

 

Tobin finally understands why her grandma always told her that people fall in love with their eyes closed. Because in this moment Christen turns away and wiggles her butt to fit perfectly in Tobin’s shape, pulls her hand over her waste and cuddles with it under her chin.

  
They stay like that until morning.

 

~*~

  
The sunlight bounds into the room with glee, ricocheting off of every white object and into her eyes.

 

Tobin gets up before her alarm set for 7am. She has a video interview at 9 and then one on live television at 10. It’s not usually her thing but lately she’s had to endorse more products to pay for her rehab.  
  
Christen lays on her arm quietly snoring; they stayed tucked together all night.  
  
She’s certain her arm is numb but she doesn’t want to move, not yet. Not with Christen looking so peaceful and cute. Tobin scans her gentle features and admires her from close range.  
  
She dares to pad her finger across the adorable bump on her nose, over the slope of her lip, and then down to her neck where she rests it in her jugular notch—a perfect place to put a finger or a kiss.  
  
Carefully, she commits to the idea and places a gentle kiss in the dip between her collarbones. It quickly becomes her little secret and she smiles at the thought of her never knowing that she’s claimed this little piece of land.

 

She takes a few more seconds watching the darker girl breathe before she slowly pulls her arm out from under her and twists out of bed. Despite the bed being a king, she finally sees how much of the bed they were using—might as well been a twin.

  
She takes a shower and prepares herself to be poked and prodded during hair and make-up. Once she has her promotional polo thrown on and her bag over her shoulder, she settles on the bed to say goodbye to sleeping beauty.  
  
Tobin brushes her hair from over her mouth, “Hey…”  
  
Christen stirs but she doesn’t wake.  
  
“Chris,” she tries again, “I need to leave but I’ll be back in four hours.”  
  
“mmm, stay…” Christen mutters, eyes shut tight with a smile edging at her lips.  
  
“I wish I could,” Tobin leans down to kiss her temple, “I’ll see you later. Feel free to order room service, whatever you want.”  
  
Chris turns to lay on her back with furrowed eyebrows, “You mean I’ll be here all alone?”  
  
Tobin giggles at her silly antics, she told her about the interviews before she came and she insisted that she could take care of herself while she’s gone.  
  
Her pouty lips are hard to ignore, “You knew this…” She whispers, climbing up the bed to hover over the sleepy girl. Chris’s hands automatically find purchase on Tobin’s hips holding her in place.  
  
“Mmm, yes. But I didn’t expect to feel this way.”  
  
Tobin thinks her honesty surprises her because she opens her eyes. But she quickly leans in to ease her worry, “I’ll be back,” she says against her lips before pushing into them for a quick kiss.  
  
“You promise?” Christen calls out after her—the warmth gone too quickly.  
  
“Before you know it.” Tobin says through the crack of the door.

The door clicks shut at the same time Christen’s eyes close. She rubs them harshly with her fists remembering the night and where it leaves them.  
  
She kicks herself for getting carried away.  
  
The last thing she wants is to scare Tobin away and she practically jumped her bones last night, spurred her on past maybe what she was ready for. Self-doubt finds a familiar home in her mind. It’s always been a struggle for her but since learning how to meditate, she’s nearly conquered her demons. After last night, deep down in the abyss of her stowed heart, lies a crack the size of a hair. Her fortified walls have been breeched by the very person she tried to keep out. They say ‘time heals all wounds’ but they never tell you that it can also reinforce them. Last night, her want for Tobin overshadowed her fear of being hurt by her. She convinces herself that’s how she wants to live—constantly overcoming fear.

 

“It’ll be okay,” She assures her heart.

~*~

Tobin’s interviews couldn’t go by fast enough. The anchors didn’t do their homework so their questions were shallowly topical and her hair was bothering her. The make-up was heating up under the lamps and all she could think about was getting back to Christen. She left a soft warm bed full of an even softer human behind.

 

 **Tobin:** Hey, you up?  
  
She shoots off a quick text to Christen on her walk back to the hotel. It’s a nice day outside; maybe they should wander the city.  
  
**Chris:** I’ve been up, just finished yoga. How were the interviews?  
  
**Tobin:** Boring. I was distracted...

**Chris:** And what pray tell distracted you?  
**  
Tobin:** Well, I left something in my room and couldn’t stop thinking about it.

 

 **Chris:** I’ll check to see if it’s in here. Where did you leave it?  
  
**Tobin:** In bed  
  
**Chris:** I don’t see it.  
  
Christen flips the covers off the bed and sees only wrinkled sheets. She throws the pillows on the floor for good measure but doesn’t see anything.  
**  
{11:30am Incoming Call:** Tobin Heath **}**

  
“Hey,” she answers enthusiastically on the first ring.  
  
“Are you sure you don’t see it?” Tobin asks.  
  
“No, yeah I don’t see it in the bed. I lifted all the covers and pillows. What is it that you’re looking for?”  
  
“Oh! Try in the bathroom, I bet you’ll see it in there.”  
  
Christen wants to help find something that would cause Tobin so much worry.  
  
“Okay, I’m in the bathroom. What am I looking for?”  
  
“Are you standing in front of the sink?”  
  
“yeah…”  
  
“Okay good. Look up.” Tobin encourages.  
  
Christen looks up and immediately is greeted with her own reflection. She wants to scoff at the silly realization that she’s been fooled.  
  
“You see it yet?”  
  
She can hear the smile in Tobin’s voice.  
  
“Yeah I see it…” Christen stares at her smile in the mirror. She almost doesn’t recognize the face looking back. She turns her head from side to side, leans in and almost goes cross-eyed.  
  
“How doe she look? When I left her this morning she looked a little grumpy.”

 

“I wasn’t grumpy” Christen argues.  
  
“Oh yeah? Then why were there three little lines on your forehead when I left?”  
  
Tobin inserts her card into the door and walks into the room very hushed, she hopes Christen is still in the bathroom so she can surprise her.  
  
Christen rubs her forehead where her lines usually appear—she hated them. “I don’t know…”  
  
But she did know. She’s worried about where this is headed. It’s a natural momentum that carries her from one minute to the next, but never beyond that. It kept her in the moment and she thinks that being so present is where a premium state of happiness lies. There’s the trick in the whole puzzle. Meditation taught her to dwell in the present as much as she can.  
  
And being with Tobin makes her feel like she’s in a constant state of meditation.  
  
Tobin crouches down and sneaks in the bathroom below the mirror, surprising her from behind. Her arms wrap around a startled Christen and her lips find the corner of a smile.  
  
“Jeez Tobin! You scared me,” she holds Tobin’s arms close assuring them they’re welcome. “Hey,” She coos, settling in strong arms.  
  
“Hi” Tobin says, relaxing her chin on her shoulder, “Everything ok?”  
  
Tobin feels a somber note in her orchestrated smile. She’s always been able to read Christen like a novel. The expressions on her face have always stood out to Tobin; easy to see when she’s always staring.  
  
“Yeah, just enjoying this.” Christen sways them back and forth as they both look at each other through the looking glass.  
  
Last night was a direct link to Tobin’s fantasy, a little dirty and a lot of fun. It could easily turn into an addiction if she isn’t careful. She knows herself and it’s up to her to take the small steps necessary to play it cool. If she’s in that situation again she knows she won’t be able to hold back, not with this growling hunger.  
  
She lets go of Christen’s waist to lean on the counter, getting a live view of her beautiful face.  
  
“Me too,” Tobin enjoys the way her cheeks turn pink under her gaze. The flutter of Christen’s eyes play on innocence at the same time her tongue licks her lips with sin. She’s a dyad of both worlds rolled up into this amazing person.  
  
“So, I was thinking,” she reaches out to pull on the hem of Christen’s shirt, “What did you want to do today? It’s really nice out.”  
  
Christen scrunches her nose stepping closer into Tobin, allowing her to play with her shirt.  
  
“I don’t think I want to go outside. There’s already so much talk about me coming here early and missing the gala…”  
  
“…Can we stay in or something?” She asks picking at her cuticles.  
  
It’s been hard dealing with the constant chatter online about her and Tobin. Christen doesn’t browse the Internet often, She doesn’t like creating a platform for hate. She doesn’t like wasting time with nonconductive things, contributing nothing to her happiness. But even with that, she hears and reads about speculations about their relationship. She hates it.  
  
“Of course,” Tobin pushes up from the counter and hugs the worry from her forehead, “I brought Dutch Blitz!”  


~*~

They stay in, goofing off, cuddling and making out. It’s a lighthearted affair that turns into competitive card playing and movie watching. They order room service and enjoy each other’s company. Tobin feels like they’re finally on the same page.  
  
“So I told Kelley to jump off the cliff and she did! She just jumped not knowing how deep it was or where rocks were. I thought she was dead…” Tobin pops a thirty-dollar tater tot in her mouth. She tells Christen about their time in Costa Rica visiting a friend and surfing every chance they got. “…But sure enough she popped up from the water and screamed at us to join her.”  
  
Christen smiles into her eyes at the story, “And did you?”  
  
Tobin shakes her head and swallows, “No way dude. We hiked down and jumped in from a safe distance of twelve inches.”  
  
“That sounds like fun.”  
  
“It’s the best time, I’ll take you one day.” Tobin promises, turning over to lie on her back. She’s full of random entrees and sides they ordered.  
  
Christen cleans the bed off so they can get in it. She pulls the covers down and convinces the lazy girl to get underneath. When she does, she tucks her in and starts walking away.  
  
“Where you goin’? Tobin careens her neck up in concern.  
  
“I’ll be right back.” Christen sways her hips as she exits to the bathroom.  
  
Tobin grumbles slamming her head back into the pillow. She’s holding her urges at bay but with Christen doing things with her hips like that challenges her strength.  
  
When Christen returns she waltz in with a two-piece silk nighty. It’s modest and revealing at the same time hugging all the wrong places and revealing all the right ones.  
  
“Wha-what are you wearing?” Tobin’s eyes trace her across the room not able to look away.  
  
“Oh this?” Christen walks the line of her sinful innocence and Tobin loves discovering this side of her the most.  
  
“Yes, that!” Tobin chokes out tugging the covers up over her mouth.  
  
“It’s comfortable.” She states simply.

But it isn’t simple is it.  
  
Christen packed that with intent to use it.  
  
She put it on with intent to use it.  
  
This minx is causing Tobin to dig down deep into the book of saints and all things holy to keep her from pouncing.  
  
She furrows her brow, “You’re mean!” She says through the sheets, as Christen gets in from her side.  
  
Christen winks, turns away from Tobin and turns off the lights.  
  
She tries to lie still, she really does. She tries so hard she’s starting to sweat and it’s uncomfortable. The only way she’ll fall asleep is if she scoots closer to Christen. She convinces herself this to be true and finds her soft hip under the covers.  
  
She hears a hum before she pulls Christen into her, cuddling up against cold silk and warm cinnamon skin. “You’re so beautiful,” Tobin says in her ear, “and you smell good.”  
  
She breathes in a floral scent that she recognizes but can’t quite grasp. It’s a white flower she knows but with the mixture of Christen’s natural smell, it transforms into a new element.  
  
Christen wiggles her butt in response and Tobin pecks the soft spot behind her ear, down her neck and on her shoulder. She grips her waist harder as she commits to more purposeful kisses. Tobin kisses the baby hairs that collect at the top of her neck. She rests her lips there, content to stay attached like this all night. She sighs into the comfort of Christen pressed into her. She mindlessly continues to touch her hip, raising her silk blouse higher as she goes, and draws light circles on Christen’s stomach.  
  
Christen doesn’t move and lets Tobin do what she wants. She doesn’t want to push her, if she wants more she’ll ask—or better yet, she’ll just take it.  


~*~  


They wake up together this time, neither eager to leave the warmth of the bed. Tobin holds Christen against her, kisses her cheek and whispers good morning. It’s their last few hours together before they both have to leave for practice and the place they made for themselves between these sheets.

  
“Mmorning,” christen sweetly responds. She rolls over to face the midfielder, her soon to be enemy on the field, and pecks her on the nose. “What time is it?”  
  
Tobin’s eyes close when she receives more kisses on her face. “I don’t know,” she doesn’t care to know either. As long as she doesn’t know the time, they can stretch the minutes out as far as she’d like.  
  
Christen moves to reach for her phone but Tobin traps her in place, squeezing her in a hug. The giggles she receives in response causes her to continue her playful squeeze, sliding her hands down her sides to tickle.  
  
“To—“ her laugh interrupts her protest and they roll around in bed trying to out tickle each other. It’s a private moment that will be cherished in both of their futures. It’s one that seems so simple but it rebuilds broken parts inside of them both. Their bond starts over and it feels like it’s stronger than ever.  
  
“Ok, Tobin…” She’s out of breath, “I have to go soon and I want to know how much time we have!” Her voice rises at the end of her sentence because Tobin jumps on top of her delivering an effective raspberry on her neck.  
  
“You can’t wear this to bed and expect to not be attacked!”  
  
“mmm” Christen gives in to the feeling of her lips against her neck.  
  
It was playful, until they slow down their hips and settle into each other. Christen’s on bottom gripping at her sides and Tobin’s on top kissing her neck slowly.  
  
“Do you still need to know what time it is?” She drags her nose up her neck to her ear. She purposefully breathes hot air over it before skimming her nose across her cheek to her lips.  
  
Christen licks outward, grazing Tobin’s lip as she coats her own. “Umm…” Instead of answering, she lifts up and bites down on the deliciously plump bottom one.  
  
The feeling of her lip between her teeth is paired with the sounds she makes underneath her when she has it in her grasp.  
  
Christen uses her tongue to seek entrance into her open mouth. The pace is careful but pointed.  
  
Tobin knows the limit now and what she wants is not something just one night can give. She wants these small moments woven with big ones, she wants a foundation that wont break on her, and she wants this girl to want her despite her flaws.  
  
She puts everything she wants into this kiss. It’s hot and muggy, full of morning, but she loves it anyway. The taste of Christen is different in the morning than it is at night, and it’s this discrepancy that encourages her to know more.  
  
She feels the gears change by the way Christen’s hands grip and pull at the flesh under her shorts. She feels the push of her hips and the pressure of her hands. Their kisses turn heated, slipping from one angle to the next. Tobin releases her lip with a pop and turns her head to breathe.  
  
“Now it’s a great morning,” She says against her ear.  
  
“Why do you do that…”  
  
Tobin shifts her weight to the side, her leg still draped over Chris’ body. “Do what?” She asks distractingly. Her fingers play with the straps and hemline of her silk blouse.  
  
“Start something you don’t finish,” Christen frustratingly rolls over and looks at the time on her phone.  
  
Tobin blinks at her backside, confused on whether if she’s upset with her or not. The tan girl turns back over and smiles into her phone.  
  
_Ok, maybe she isn’t upset._  
  
She chalks it up as nothing and latches herself back onto her side.  
  
Christen giggles at her phone again, both hands typing away above Tobin’s head.  
  
“Who you talking to?” She hums against her warm chest.  
  
She finishes typing, sets the phone down on the nightstand and wraps her arms around the adorable morsel attached to her side.  
  
“Julie was texting me about you actually…”  
  
Tobin lifts her head, “Oh why?! No one should talk about me. I’m a ghost.”  
  
She jokes and wiggles into her favorite person further.  
  
“That you are Heath.”  
  
Tobin grumps into her neck, “Hmph.”  
  
“but…” Christen pokes at her sides, “You’re a cute ghost! And all she asked was if I had enough time with Hobin Teeth and to come get coffee with her and Sofia.”  
  
Tobin whines like a child and lifts up onto her hands, “Hey! They can’t steal you away, I still have like—what time is it?”  
  
“It’s 8:50am”  
  
“—like…what really? Is it that late?” Tobin flips to her back putting a hand to her forehead. She needs to be at Providence Park at 10.  
  
“Yup,” Christen says and jumps out of bed. “Time to face the day!”  
  
Tobin peeks at her from under her hand, she gets a full body view of her silky silhouette, and she has to corral her smile down from wandering too far.  
  
“You seem excited to leave me!” She shouts after Christen as she heads to the bathroom.  
  
When she comes back in the room she’s glowing, “I’m excited to kick your ass in this game.”  
  
Christen digs through her bag for a change of clothes when she feels the smack of a pillow at her back. She looks behind her, still bent over, hands wrist deep in her bag.  
  
“Tobin Heath, did you just--  
  
Another pillow hits her directly in the face.  
  
“AHH!” Christen drops her clothes and jumps on the bed in retaliation. She climbs her way up Tobin’s body, grabbing a pillow on the way and goes to town whacking her with all her might.  
  
Tobin cages her face with her arms at Christen’s assault. “Save it for the field Press!”  
  
With one final smack, she sighs as she drops the pillow and settles on Tobin, lanky and heavy. “I probably won’t play that much…” Christen confesses, sagging into her more.  
  
“Why?” Tobin’s hands gravitate to her hips, keeping her there.  
  
“Rory said that he has a plan and I overheard him say he’s going to bench a lot of us.” She shrugs her shoulders, her face fallen around a pouty lip, “I get it though…He wants to rest us.”  
  
Tobin lightly squeezes her thighs for her to look at her, “You’ll play. You’re too good not to play.”  
  
She watches the smile etch across her face and continues caressing her legs that rest on both sides of her. “Besides…someone needs to stop me.” She grins at the way Christen’s face twists.  
  
“Oh I’ll stop you Heath, mark my words.”  
  
Christen lays on top of her, enjoying their last few moments close together. It’s an understood world they’ve created and once they leave this room, it’s not a guarantee they’ll find it again. She holds Tobin tight so she won’t forget.  
  
“Oh I’m marking them,” Tobin whispers in her ear and holds her as tightly in return.  
  
After a few moments, Tobin grabs Christen’s phone off the nightstand and convinces Christen to face the camera and smile.  
  
She snaps a [photo](https://footballer-preath.tumblr.com/post/166171908091/beyond-the-pitch-preath-au) just so they won’t forget.  
  
  
  


~*~

 

It’s game day—Tobin’s favorite kind of day. She still feels the tingle in her fingertips from the feel of Christen’s skin and the warmth she found within her.  
  
She curls her fingers into her palm and squeezes.  
  
It’s time to focus.  
  
Her city is ready and waiting in the stands, she’s pumped and loose. She hopes for a good win today so they feel good going into the semi-finals next weekend.  
  
They are ready to fight for it this year and win!  
  
\\\

**The Thorns vs. The Red Stars**

 

“Today is a battle of two teams destined for the playoffs. Portland has been unbeaten in their last five matches. Tobin Heath, one of the best players in the world, is working her way back up to one hundred percent health. Sam Johnson will be one of the stalwarts in the backline trying to slow Heath down in the Thorns attack. And Christen Press, the leading scorer in the league and a FIFA player of the year nominee, won’t hold anything back. The starting line up is less exciting than expected but we are told it is part of the Red Stars Plan. We’ll see how it turns out for them today.” Announces Dalen Cuff.  
  
It’s the last game of the NWSL season and Tobin’s second game with the potential to play, work her way up and make progress in her game. Mark Parson’s told her she will still see limited time but he’ll give her more minutes than the last game.  
  
Rory, the head coach for Chicago, has the opposite strategy of the Portland Thorns. He’s benching his starting line while Parsons is keeping them warm and in the game, starting all his key players.  
  
Christen isn’t happy with her coach’s strategy and wishes to keep momentum into the semi-finals instead of strategically losing for any reason. He would rather face North Carolina for the semi-finals because they’re undefeated against them this season.  
  
//  
  
When the Portland Thorn’s Hayley Raso scores under two minutes because of a poor decision by Dalton, Christen knew it was going to be a hard game. The thorns are on the rise and their dominant defense is the best in the league. Christen observes disconnected passes in the middle, no communication between her teammates and poor decisions being made out there. They’re able to get into their attacking third but it’s no match against the Thorns defense.  
\\\  
  
Tobin sits on the bench watching the game unfold. She feels good about today, her warm-ups felt good and the weather is perfect for football. Sitting on the bench is hard for her but she’s excited that her team is playing well.  
  
Raso makes her way up the field yet again and passes it to Henry who lays it off to Sykes.  
  
Tobin gets on her feet hoping for a finish.  
  
Sykes dribbles it hard inside and as soon as she’s taken down and the whistle blows granting the foul, Tobin hears a familiar voice down the sideline.  
  
“Come ON! Make smart challenges ladies!” Christen stands yelling.  
  
After another few minutes, Chicago gives another foul away at the top of the eighteen.  
  
Christen slams her fists at her sides and paces back and forth, unable to sit still. She mumbles her plans of action and motivational mantras under her breath. She calms herself down but this game is already at their disadvantage.  
  
Tobin watches Christen build in frustration. She hates that she has to suffer but she wants to win and she can’t help grin at how she was _so_ wrong the other morning.  
  
At the 13th minute Ashley Sykes scores from a ball sent in by Christine Sinclair. Poor touch off Gordon, Chicago defender, and into Sykes’ foot who puts it at the far post hitting the back of the net.  
  
“YES!!” Tobin pumps her fists in the air, “Go Sykes!!”  
  
**POR** \- 2   |   **CHI** \- 0  
  
Tobin wants to win so they match up with Chicago in the finals but it also means Christen has to fly to North Carolina instead of staying in town for a whole other week. But considering their loss last year, she’d rather keep winning right up into the finals. It would be perfect to fight for victory against Christen Press, the star forward of the year. She’s amazing and she can’t deny that it would feel good to win against her. They’ve had a rivalry with Chicago for years and it’s become a natural desire to beat them. And if she can soothe Christen after they lose, then it’s a win-win for her.  
  
Tobin bounces her legs, watching Raso hustle and win balls. She imagines what she’d do to send her through balls and how she’d adjust their attack.

  
Portland sits comfortable at this 2-0 lead.  
  
//  
Colaprico enters the game in the 20th minute and Christen wishes to go in with her. They need execution up top; they keep losing the ball and giving the Thorns chances to capitalize on their mistakes.  
  
Another attack from her team fails in the final third.

 

Sam Johnson suffers a knock to her head from Raso’s challenge and there goes their strongest full back.  
  
And then minutes later, another foul is given to the Thorns.  
  
_“Fuck”_ Christen exhales.

The stadium roars, drums bang, the crowd cheers, and all Christen can hear is the chant of her team’s impending defeat.

  
Raso gets fouled _again_ and it earns Chicago their second yellow card in the first half. She’s one of those players that drive Christen crazy. She always challenges hard and ends up falling almost every time drawing the foul. It’s a good strategy but it gets old.  
  
“Yeah Raso!”  
  
She hears Tobin yell standing up while she roots for her teammate. Christen looks over and gives her the best glare she can muster.

 

In the 40th minute the Portland Thorns earn their first yellow card, it’s starting to get choppy and it’s so frustrating to watch.  
  
Rory yells at the ref continuously and then yells something about Horse Radish and Christen is just about fed up with his thoughts.  
  
The first half of the game is dominated by Portland.  
  
Chicago has had three straight losses at home and they’ve picked up in the last stretch of the season, winning the last four. Christen wants to keep that motivation and momentum; she wants to win. And this is not the way to do it. She’s the captain; she can lead them there!  
  
\\\  
  
Tobin is told during the break that she’ll be going in at the start of the second half. She’s excited and thanks her lucky stars to be healthy and playing for her team. She taps the crest over her left shoulder before her team kicks the ball into play.  
  
She wants to play good for her fans and a small part of her wants Christen to see how much progress she’s made.  
  
_Here we go._ She tells herself as the referee blows the whistle to the start of the second half.

 

She runs along and finds space, making sure she’s positioned right up top.  
  
Allie Long sends her a great ball near the 18, giving her a chance to show off, but she’s immediately challenged and stripped of the ball, she fights after the girl and manages to get the ball back, but as soon as she defender falls, the ref calls the whistle and jogs up to her.  
  
He chastises her, “I know you’re excited to be back but I need you to settle down. I don’t need anyone getting hurt by pulling on jerseys.”  
  
Tobin smiles at him, “You won’t have to worry about me,” She waves her hand up and down, “I’m chill.”  
  
She laughs to herself because she knows she’s hyped up, maybe a little too eager but it’s time to put some work in. Her position this game is at the top with Nadia Nadim. She likes playing high but she thrives in the midfield making plays happen, sending balls in and scoring from within the 18 every now and then.  
  
Nadim eventuall wins the ball over and passes to Tobin in the box. She focuses on the spot of the ball she wants to strike and she sends it blaring across the goal.  
  
“ _fuuck,”_ she curses to the sky. It wasn’t what she meant to do, she meant to put spin on it and bury it in the back of the net and if Nadim happened to be there, good. But she wants to score _so_ badly.  
  
She can feel the energy increasing and the connection they are having in the final third is paying off. They need to just execute and finish it—she needs to finish it.  
  
In the 49 th minute, Tobin dribbles up the left side of the field. She runs through the blue challengers with ease and crosses it over to Nadim, her first touch is off and they earn a corner.  
  
//  
  
Christen watches in her bright yellow bib; her ass hangs on the edge of the bench. Tobin is doing so well, she finds the pocket of space and she has such an explosive personality on the ball.  
  
The Chicago captain thirsts to challenge her, she wants to strip her of the ball and score for her team.  
  
It’s infuriating, so she gets up and talks to Rory about her potential playing time.  
  
“Hey coach!”  
  
“Not now Christen, I know you want to play but I have a plan. These refs are…” he mumbles the rest and she can’t make out the words.  
  
He sits down on his side of the bench and puts his chin into his hand.  
  
Christen debates on arguing with him but his face is bright red and she knows her words will mean nothing to his stubborn ears. She stays standing and watches on with frustration on her breath.  
  
“If we get a goal back, I’ll put you in!” He adds.  
  
Ok then, it’s a game then. They will definitely score and she’ll get to play.  
  
Tobin Heath is making exciting plays, committing to good runs and delivering solid passes giving her team the attacking advantage. She’s smart with her play and Christen can’t stop staring at her. She’s the widely anticipated player of this game and she’s making a show out of her defenders.  
  
\\\  
  
Tobin and Horan are having fantastic chemistry and make it up the field consistently.

In the 56th minute, Tobin’s golden opportunity presents itself. She receives the ball in the 18 and it’s high pressure. There are three Red Stars on her immediately but she gets some space and tries to nutmeg a shot through a defender’s legs but she couldn’t make it work! She misses and tries again but gets knocked down by a blue jersey right on her belly.  
  
“Come on!” Tobin falls on her stomach arms stretched out wide, expecting a call. She should have one touched it and then shot it. She caused compression when she held on to it too long, which limited her shot. Dalton wouldn’t have blocked it if she went near post.  
“Damn.”  
  
//  
  
Sofia Huerta is subbed in at the 58th minute and Christen breathes a little hope into the game. She’s a finisher and if she isn’t out there, she sure as hell wants Huerta in it. Chicago is having a lot of trouble getting pressure out of their defending third but it’s getting better. They get more chances on goal but can’t penetrate the Portland defense. Once momentum is lost, there is little chance an attack can go through their line. Christen knows decisions have to be made fast in the attacking third and catch them off guard.  
  
Tobin is hustling to the ball and becoming more aggressive. Christen sees her arguing with the ref about her foul and she covers the small smile that creeps on her face. She secretly loves it when Tobin loses her cool. She feels as though Tobin is the calm and collected one while she freaks out inside half the time.  
  
And in the 70th minute Sofia Huerta scores to put Chicago on the board!  
  
As soon as she scores, Christen takes off her bib and begins to warms up. She knows she’s going in, Rory said so and it’s her time to boost the team into their groove.  
  
She’s ready.  
  
She’s charged and is thrilled to be on the same field as Tobin. She wants to show her what she’s made of.  
  
In the 71st minute Christen Press is subbed in and reclaims her captain’s band around her left arm. She runs in and starts coaching her players on their distance and fights for the ball as soon as it’s active.  
  
Immediately in the 73rd minute Tobin takes it up the center of their attacking third but she quickly loses it from taking too much time and Christen gets to create the play that sets Huerta up on the left side so she can make the run in the middle. Huerta crosses it and it goes just above her head! They recover with a throw in and Christen Press gets her head on it toward goal, but Franch comes out with the save.  
  
“And just like that Chicago is finding their groove” Ali Wagner announces.  
  
A win or a draw would keep Chicago here in Portland to play them in the semi-finals.  
  
And Christen wants to win or draw. She wants to stay here.  
  
The Red Stars keep Portland’s attack at an all time low during this game. The game changes pace since Huerta and Christen came in. She loves her connection with the girl and it makes her truly enjoy the game.  
  
In the 74th minute Christen Press pressures their defense with high intensity. She blocks a pass that was intended for another defender and she switches possession in a millisecond. Christen gets the ball delivered back to her within the 18, she dribbles it down on the left side and within a marginal window—slide tackled by Sonnett—pushed in line with near post, she gets a shot off! Without the miraculous save by their goalie, Christen would have tied the game.  
  
_“Ok Christen, you can do this. You’re so close, lets go!”_ Christen psyches herself up and coaches her mind right.  
  
She hears Rory yelling from the sidelines and she tries her best to stay in position. She wants to run to every challenge and take the ball.  
  
All they need is one more goal.  
  
\\\  
  
Tobin doesn’t like waiting at the top of the attack. She often falls back out of position to help but she needs to stay up and be ready for the transition.  
  
And soon enough, the thorns get another great build up. Sinclair delivers her a ball after getting knocked down but she has the momentum. This feels like it—  
  
The ref blows the whistle and she doesn’t understand why! Tobin challenges the ref when he stops the advantage of play. She had the ball; it was a foul for Portland, what the hell.  
  
“I had the ball? Don’t we get the advantage if the foul is on us?!” She shrugs her shoulders at him as he stands next to her. All he does is show her his whistle as she tries to reason with him.  
  
“Whatever.”  
  
Tobin takes the free kick and Dalton can’t keep a handle on it. It gets sent back out to Sonnett for the attack but Christen is already there fighting for possession. She comes all the way back and challenges the ball hard. It’s time to take control for her team! She takes over the ball and manages to almost escape, but Sonnett fights her tooth and nail and they fumble out of bounds. She looks up and it turns out the ball is Chicago’s throw in when it probably should have been in Portland favor. Tobin sees her grin like a little shit and it sends a thrill down her spine.  
  
Christen is so attractive when she’s impatient. She’s everywhere at once and is dangerous if not watched in their defensive third. Tobin keeps an eye on her but commits to her position up top.  
  
//  
  
In the 81 st minute, Allie Long pulls a penalty kick for the Thorns. She over dramatized the challenge and was successful in her efforts.  
  
“What?! That’s bullshit!” Christen yells. “It’s a fair challenge! Let us play the game!”  
  
This ref calls a soft call, one that should have been allowed. It’s like he can’t make a decision for himself and looks upon the reactions of players to aid in his decisions.  
  
Nadia Nadim makes the PK for Portland and the stadium erupts into a blinding roar.  
  
**POR** \- 3 | **CHI** \- 1  
  
Christen earns a set piece during the 85th minute but they aren’t completing any connections in the box or creating enough space to get shots off. The ball pops out easily in a header challenge, Press gets the ball to her feet and tries to send it in but it’s sent back out to Tobin Heath.  
  
She doesn’t want Tobin to touch it, so when she starts to take it up the field Christen denies her.  
  
Tobin manages to keep it away, “Watch out Press,” she comments before passing it by her to her defender, and it’s like Christen’s running in circles trying to do it all herself. They pass it around her and her efforts are futile.  
  
She slows down and sets herself up in position to make a run behind the back line again—if the opportunity ever comes.  
  
\\\  
  
Tobin notices how hard Christen is trying to regain possession for her team but she’s also focused on getting a goal.  
  
The Thorns slow the pace of the game to run the clock out but not long after they do, they find Tobin Heath at the top of the box.  
  
She tries to get a shot off but she’s blocked in the last second!  
  
“Dang it!” She jumps on her toes and grabs her head in frustration. She almost had it.  
  
In the 89th minute the Portland thorns have officially over shot Chicago by a landslide of 21 to 6.  
  
Tobin watches Christen from afar, pressing against her defense. She pulls off her signature cut back move and fires a shot off but Franch makes another great save.  
  
_“Almost baby”_ Tobin whispers under her breath. She’s proud of Christen; her game was good given the minutes she received but she knows she’s upset and wishes for her to score.  
  
Before they know it the whistle sounds the end of the game.  
  
**The Thorns beat the Red Stars 3-1.**  
  
Tobin gives her interview with Dalen but she can’t stand still. She wants to join her team in their celebration and find out where Christen is on the field. He asks his final question and thanks her for her time.  
  
She turns to look around and finds Christen walking across the field. Her head is down and it’s not a good feeling to see her like that. Tobin fights the urge to run over to her and wrap her up in a hug. But she can’t, so she brushes the negative off her shoulders and puts her focus on her team. The thorns make their way around the stadium, saying hello to their supportive fans. It’s overwhelming sometimes to see how much their city supports them. Tobin loves the energy they bring in Providence Park, it fuels her game and she tries to give back as much as she can.  
  
After signing autographs and taking pictures, she makes her way back on the field. She glances over to the Red Stars’ huddle and Christen does not look happy. In fact, she looks angry. Tobin swallows at the uncertainty. She isn’t sure how Christen will act toward her in the next few weeks. She knows how bad Christen likes to win and if her gut is correct, they’ll be playing each other in the finals.


	4. Comfort

 

 

> **Tobin** : When do you leave?

 

She wants to ask her if she's all right but she knows she's not. She wants to ask her how she feels but she knows Christen doesn't know either. 

 

 

> **Chris:** we fly back to Chicago tomorrow. 
> 
>  
> 
> **Tobin:** oh, why back there? 
> 
>  
> 
> **Chris:** I don't know. 
> 
>  
> 
> **Tobin:** Can I see you before then? 
> 
>  
> 
> **Chris:** I'm not good company right now. 
> 
>  
> 
> **Tobin:** please? 
> 
>  
> 
> **Tobin:** I'll be home alone all night, come over. 

 

Christen doesn't reply but Tobin knows she saw her message. So she waits.

She loves being under the covers and surrounded by pillows. One reason is, the infinite feeling of them; the inability to find things under them always amazes her. But the other reason is the buoyancy—the feeling of floating.  
  
Maybe that's her obsession- the fleeting feeling of time and always chasing infinity in all things. She feels it in the deep ocean when the waves return to shore from their journey, she feels it at night when it's just her and the sacred sounds of a silent night, she feels it when she falls asleep on the roof looking up at the stars, but most of all she feels it in Christen.

The last few days have shown her parts of her she tried throwing away but instead of the ugly parts she saw in them before, she sees something else now.

It nags at her everyday she hasn't spoken to or seen Christen and it's nagging at her now to not let the girl be alone right now.

Tobin rolls around in her bed and decides to text the one person who can help her. 

 

 

> **Tobin** : Hey J, hope you're okay. But I need to ask a favor. Christen isn't responding to me and I want to see her before you guys fly out tomorrow. Do you know where she is? 

 

She drops her phone and gathers all the pillows in her arms to cuddle the stuff out of them. Her arms miss the warmth of a certain forward and these feather pillows will have to do.

Her phone dings. 

Her heart jumps from zero to twenty-three in less than a second.

_Maybe it's Chris!  
_

She tries to untangle herself in too much of a hurry causing her foot to wrap in the undertow of sheets. She flails her arms out like a desperate snow-angel artist feeling for the device but she can't feel find it. Lifting herself up with her hands and knees, blankets draped around her, she starts throwing pillows behind her like a mad woman.

"It's got to be here, I just had it!"

She growls when she feels it just disappeared. The bed is practically cleared and she doesn’t see it.

Her phone goes off again but this time she feels it. After a couple of flips and curses, the phone falls out from the tentacles around her onto the floor and she lunges for it. 

She hopes it’s Christen.  
  
She’s worried about her and she wants to comfort her.

 

But it’s just Julie.

 

 

> **J:** We fly out on Monday, and she left right after the game and I haven't seen her since.
> 
>  
> 
> **J:** I'll ask around. 

 

Wait- so they fly out Monday. Why did Christen say tomorrow?  
  
Tobin's heart sinks.

  
\--

 

> **Tobin:** so you don't fly out tomorrow? 
> 
>  
> 
> **J:** No we don't. Is everything okay? 
> 
>  
> 
> **Tobin:** Oh yeah, it's all good. Thanks. 

 

She doesn't understand why Christen would lie to her. If she has an extra day, why wouldn't she tell her? 

Tobin lays back and tries to put herself in Christen's shoes. _She was benched for majority of the game, she didn't look pleased about it, she pushed her on the field ( but that's just part of the game), they lost and she walked off the field before anyone could talk to her._

 _She probably wants time to restart or reboot, whatever is it she does, when she meditates._  
  
Tobin always envied her for learning to control her mind like that- to be able to sit still and quiet everything around. She's tried yoga and meditation but it wasn't really for her. But when Christen does it, she makes it look like the best thing.

That's when Tobin gets an idea, she pops out of bed, trips on her sheet that’s dangling around her foot and grabs her board. Her keys, phone and shoes quickly make it into their respective places. She's out the door within seconds, leaving her sheets like breadcrumbs trailing through the apartment. 

She knows of a few places that are perfect for getting away. She’s told her about them many times before. But she's never had the chance to take her; so maybe- just maybe she'll be at one of them.

Dropping her board, she jumps on and kicks her way to the first location. It's a wonderful night; the breeze whisks through her hair and the trees always give off an earthy scent of pine and cedar. Every time she goes outside it makes her happy to know she has plenty of fresh air. Trees surround the concrete and construction, there are plenty of open spaces and forests to easily escape the city—this was her home. 

It's Saturday night and every light in Portland is working hard to keep it open. There's plenty of traffic to weave through, she tries to stay on the sidewalks but there's just not enough room for her to glide.

She stops at the edge of a tree line that extends perpendicular to the road. This place is the closest to her apartment, it's her favorite place but it's hard to find.

Tobin kicks up her board and starts running. She jumps through the gap in the guardrail and follows the tree line. A tiny trail is hiding behind overreaching branches, but if you know where to look it’s not hard to find.  
  
A clearing the size of a soccer field sits in the middle of the forest. It's not man made, but people aren't sure if it's natural either. Tobin researched this area as soon as she got home from discovering it because of how strange it was. The trees that surround the odd shaped clearing are twisted in a haunted way, the grass is softer and thinner than the native species, and the bugs are different. This is her favorite place to lie down and watch the sky. It always manages to charge her up after feeling empty. The place holds a wavering energy that’s a few degrees warmer than the outside air. Sometimes she thinks it might be from the 1968 UFO they thought landed here. Since the sixties there have been odd medical reports that originated from this area. People would come and see the oddity, feel the weird energy and months later turn themselves into the hospital with random ailments. That's why it's so private, no one dares to enter even though there hasn't been a report since 1985.   
  
But to her it's just magic.

She makes it to the trail, picks up the pace, and holds on to her board even though her arm is burning.

Tobin smells burnt wood and dirt and she knows she's close. As soon as she makes it to the old charred stump she quickly kisses her fingers and taps the flat surface. Without slowing down, she runs a good quarter of the way into the clearing before stopping. She doesn’t know the exact reason she does that to the stump. She guesses it's her way of paying tribute to the forest. The stump sits there near the entry way like a guardian. She’s always coming to take and she felt like she had to give back some how and that’s what she's done ever since. She believes they have an understanding—It lets her come in and out unharmed and she loves it for the strange phenomenon it is.

She's not here.

It was a long shot but she thought she'd make sure. She takes one last lingering look around and then up to the sky—this place is always calming, she feels the wave hit her and the tightness in her chest loosen. She silently thanks the forest and sprints back out, kisses her fingers, taps the stump and switches her board to the other arm.

Onto the next closest place—the bench with the river view.  
  
She makes it to the street and checks her phone, just in case anyone’s texted her.

 

> **J:** so I asked around and Casey said she saw her with a ball wearing her cleats. Still no sign of her in the hotel. 
> 
>  
> 
> **J:** I'm worried about her. 
> 
>  
> 
> **Tobin:** ok, thanks Jules. I'll find her. 

 

That leaves one place where Tobin thinks she'd go with a soccer ball—the soccer field where they went to after Kling's break up.  
  
Allie, Lindsey, and Emily made a plan to kidnap her to get her out of her apartment. Christen was in town and happened to tag along that night- Tobin was all for it.

This soccer field has the worst parking lot in the city. It's cracked and uneven but those who know the city knew of this place. It's where the best pick up games were because of the lights.

That night, they had a picnic with all of Kling’s favorite food. They finally got her to laugh with the help of some liquor and pie. It was a good night, one of those nights that Tobin wants embedded into her memory forever that can be watched over and over again. Everyone was smiling and enjoying each other's company. No significant others for any of them, all free to stay out as late as they wanted—a great night.

Then the lights turned off.

All scrambled about for their phones for light. It almost ended the night early but Christen saved the day by finding the timer on the furthest light pole. It was pitch black but she was persistent and found the control panel when the rest of them were already giving up.

That must be the place, that's where she must be.

Tobin picks up speed on her skateboard, weaving through traffic and ignoring stop signs. She’s used to skating through these streets. The field is nearly 8 miles away so she decides to stop at her apartment to get her Jeep.

She turns a sharp corner and kicks to add more speed. Her apartment is down this last stretch of road and that's when she sees it—the bright pair of lights heading straight toward her.  
  
The light was red but no one was around, she looked both ways, she was certain there was no one coming—she was wrong.

Tobin bent low on her board, grabbed the edge and crashed.

 

 

 

 

The truck went zooming by all honking and screeching tires leaving Tobin sprawled out, board broken, in the middle of the city and in a bush.

"Fucking asshole!" She screams with her arms sticking out like tongs.  
  
He nearly hit her, if she hadn’t crouched down and leaped off her board, she’d be a pancake.

She manages to lift herself out of the well-placed bush and she sincerely thanks it for being there.

"Man! My favorite board!"

She runs in the street but stops suddenly in her tracks to carefully look both ways. This could have been her in the road, broken into pieces. Once the coast is clear, she picks up the biggest parts and runs home with a few scratches and bruises.

It's getting late; she thinks she'll lose her window of opportunity. She wants to arrive and be the hero of the day. It might be presumptuous of her but it's how she wants to imagine it—her swooping in on her black stallion Jeep, the lights glimmering off her smile as she runs onto the field with wild flowing hair, Christen accepts her with open arms and she scoops her up twirling her around in circles.   
  
At least, she hopes for that open arm welcome.

She arrives at her jeep, throws her boards (now she has many little ones) in the open backseat and starts her up. She can get there in less than ten minutes if she gets all green lights. 

 

//

 

Tobin gets there in 20 minutes. She looked both ways many times, waited at red lights and waited a few more seconds after it changed green to accelerate. She'll be damned if she dies tonight, she is determined to be there for Christen. She thinks the universe might be against her but even it can't stop her now. Her determination is pumping her adrenaline through her veins and convincing her that this is the right thing to do.

Her car bumps and shakes over the broken parking lot. If it weren't for her lift and large tires, she'd be stuck out here.

She puts the car in park, palms her keys, and looks out the windshield. The lights are on but the pitch sits over fifty yards away from the lot so she can’t see if anyone is out there. The feeling in her gut whirs. She feels energy here and hopes it means what she thinks it means.

Christen. 

 

She takes off toward the lighted green pasture and the closer she gets the more she can see a blurry figure.

With the flick of a ponytail, she knew it was her; the way she strikes the ball, she knew it was her. Christen never expressed herself when she got upset, instead she sutured herself and dealt with it on her own.  
  
She is the strongest person Tobin knows (besides Cheney of course) and she's always there when anyone needs. She'd call Chris a mother figure but she's not a fan of that imagery.

Now, Tobin wants to be the person to be there for her when she needs it.

She decides to approach while Christen is retrieving the ball from the net.

Her feet hit the grass lightly, too shy to step quickly and too scared to make a noise.  
  
_What if she doesn't want me here?_

This realization causes her to freeze in her tracks. One foot sits across the line the other sliding back toward her Jeep. Christen chose this field on purpose, to get away from her team and everyone she knows.  
  
Maybe she needs this time to heal by herself.

She looks up and watches Christen grab the ball from the side of the net. She gets her cleat tangled in the netting and slightly trips before she catches herself. Tobin smiles at how adorable she is, even when she's scowling.

Both feet cross the line and she steadily takes each step toward her, the next step stronger than the last.

Christen still hasn't seen her, she must really be inside her head.  
  
She dribbles the ball to a spot she wants, steps back from it, winds up and—

 

"Chris?" 

 

The shot goes wild and high, over the net and into the trees.

"What the f—“ she turns in a fright, “Tobin?!”

Christen's hands clasp at her chest.

"What are you doing here?" Irritation laces her voice as she looks back out for her ball and back to Tobin for an answer.

Tobin looks at her with wide eyes.  
  
She is particularly sweaty.  
  
Her body is curvy and the white shirt with blue shorts she’s wearing clings to those curves so tightly. Her eyes trail down to her legs and back up to her heaving collarbones and perky chest.

"I-- um--I--" her hands lift up in explanation but her words fail. She takes a deep breath bringing her hand up to scratch behind her head.

"Oh my god! What happened to your arm?" Christen gasps, taking all the steps forward and into Tobin's space. And just like that Tobin's senses fill with her smell and touch. Her knees wobble at the feeling of her hands.

"What? Oh yeah that. It's nothing—

"Wait, what happened to your knee—and your hand—oh my and your chin!? Tobin!" She reaches out and touches each spot that shows red or blue.

Tobin watches her take inventory of her injuries. Her smile is involuntary and she lifts her hands up to Christen's cheeks, brings her concerned face up so she can look into her eyes, and strokes her cheeks with her thumbs.

"Hey." 

 

She moves one thumb to rub the concern off her forehead.

 

" hey..." Christen's reply is constricted.

 

She looks from one grey eye to the next. Her eyes are sad like an overcast day. 

 

"Are you okay?" | "you okay?"

They ask each other at the same time causing an also synchronized smile. 

 

"I'm fine but I'm here for you," Tobin leads. 

 

Christen smiles, tries to step back from her embrace but Tobin follows her. She lets her hands drop but she keeps a close distance.

"I... know you probably didn't want to be bothered but I’ve... been looking for you— I wanted to find you to make sure you're all right." Tobin’s face contorts into a doubtful expression—this is where Christen could tell her to leave or stay.

She watches the softness reach the corners of her eyes and Tobin relaxes her shoulders-- she's not going to tell her to leave.

"So..." Tobin grins shifting her weight on her feet, "are you..." she asks stepping closer to place her hands on her shoulders, "all right?"

Their faces are inches apart with eyes darting around absorbing as much as they can. They catch each other's for a few seconds before Christen falls into her chest. Tobin immediately wraps her arms around her and rests her cheek against damp wavy hair.  
  
She doesn't say anything; it doesn't feel like the time.  
  
She feels like just being something solid for her to hold on to.

Christen rests her head on her chest breathing deeply as her arms hold tightly.

"I'm not angry," she mumbles.

"What was that?" Tobin bends her knees trying to look at her face.

Christen lifts her head, "I'm not angry, you know..." She wipes her eyes, " everyone was saying that I was angry but I wasn't, I’m just disappointed."

As soon as tears start to collect in her eyes Tobin grabs her in a hug again.  
  
"I know... it's ok. You don't have to defend yourself. People will always say what they want."

Christen laughs at that, "they always do."  
  
She allows Tobin to hold her close and continues, "Did you know that in The Pitch, they mentioned you and me in an article?"

Tobin looks confused, "the one that has your interview in it?"

“Yeah, the one with us on the cover."

“Honestly I only read the parts about you." Tobin blushes.

Christen’s touched by this information lifting up to express how much she likes that Tobin read only her parts and how much she likes that Tobin found her on this field.

Tobin watches her lick her lips and leans in toward hers. Her eyes flutter closed and then it goes black.  
  
She expects the soft warm embrace of lips upon her own but she puckers at air.  
  
She opens her eyes but it's still black. "What happened? Did I go blind?!" Tobin squeezes Christen closer, holding on for guidance in this cruel world.

She feels Christen shaking in her grip, "Chris don't cry it'll be ok."

Her laugh finally breaks free and Tobin scoffs, "what's so funny!"  
  
She tickles Christen’s sides and breaks into her own giggle, her humor clearly having worked.

"The lights went out," Tobin whispers near what she thinks is Christen's ear.

"I noticed," she replies with a lower voice than before, "it'll be ok Tobin." She parrots back right before she lands her lips on Tobin's chin.

"My chin thanks you," Tobin chuckles.

She feels a slap on her shoulder, "Ow!"

"Oh—hey, what happened to you? You're all beat up..."

A hand meets her neck and another finds her cheek.

"Oh it's nothing..." Tobin dismisses.

The moon is bright and their eyes adjust to the darkness. The sounds of the night surround them: crickets, owls, and creeping winds through the tree branches.

"It's not nothing Tobin," she reprimands pulling her face closer, " you're hurt..."

Tobin grips her hips to pull her flush, " I don't feel hurt right now." She finds Christen's lips and brings her in for tight embraced and urgent laced kiss.

"Ow," Tobin whispers pulling away at the dull pain in her lip. Her adrenaline is wearing off and she feels the cut on her lip as well as all the other ones sprinkled across her body.

Christen clicks her tongue at her, " you're a mess."

"Hey," Tobin squeezes her hips, "I want to be here for _you_. I'm—" 

 

She lets go of Christen mid-sentence and runs off—she has an idea. 

 

"Tobin? Where are you going!?" 

 

She gives no response as she runs to the pole she thinks has the timer. If her memory serves her right, this is the pole. She grabs it and feels around for a metal box. 

 

There's nothing.  
  
If she doesn't find the lights, she'll look like a dork just running off.  
  
She runs to the next pole and manages to find the panel.

" _Yes!"  
_

She turns the dial all the way over and runs towards the trees in search of the ball. The lights blink and slowly increase in brightness.  
  
Tobin reaches the trees just as the lights turn on fully. She looks over her shoulder to make sure Chris is still standing there in the middle of the field. When she sees her standing there with her hands on her hips, she continues her search faster.  
  
_It has to be here somewhere; it must have ricocheted off a tree or something._                                                  

"Ah ha!"

Tobin retrieves the ball, runs into the goal, drops the ball to her feet and passes the ball right to Christen's feet.  
  
She crouches at the ready like a goalie.

"What are you doing?" Christen asks bemused.

She stands straight up and puts her hands on her hips like it should be obvious, "I'm being here for you, now shoot!"

"But you're hurt!" Christen justifies rolling the ball under her cleat hesitantly.

"Shoot-the- ball, Chris!" Tobin laughs appetent.

Christen shakes her head and stares at the Portland girl crouched down at the ready. After a minute, she eventually rolls the ball ahead of her and kicks it with a solid strike.  
  
Tobin leaps to the side but misses by a mile. She watches the ball sore into the back of the net and then she jumps up running full speed out of the box with her arms outstretched like an airplane.

"GOAALLLLLL!" She cheers, side winding toward the standing girl.

"Tobin...." Christen laughs weary, watching her recklessly head straight for her. She's doing her celebration and she thinks it's adorable—perfect even.

"Tobin, tobin! No--" she's scooped up and paraded over a strong shoulder.

   
"Tobin!!"

She picks her up in one swooping motion and tosses her over her shoulder. She feels a little sore but muscles through the pain because this girl is laughing this sweet delicious laugh.  
  
Tobin thinks can get used to that sound, it fills her with liquid happiness every time she hears it. She takes her on a ride around half field, twirls her in circles and sets her down.

She keeps her hands on her hips as she makes her way up her body. They stand together in the middle of the pitch, the lights bright with no one around. Tobin settles their bellies against one another, her smile never fading, and just looks at her.

"What?"  Christen whispers.

Tobin takes her in, absorbs her essence, feels the energy between them and delivers a mega-watt smile.

"Whu-hut," Christen asks again as she squirms under her gaze.

"Are you ok?" She asks sincerely, rubbing her thumbs over her hips. 

It’s such a soft moment; neither of them wants to move too fast in fear of breaking it. Christen wraps her arms around her neck and husks, "well I am now..."  
  
She stares at Tobin’s plump lips and all she wants is for her to kiss her already.

And she does.

With a hum, Tobin leans in capturing awaiting lips and doesn't let go until the lights click off.  
  
They don't move when it goes pitch black, partly because they don't even notice, they just hold on tighter and kiss harder. They don’t move when a plane goes by overhead and they don’t move when a bush rustles in the distance.  
  
~

 

When the wind picks up and it gets too cold, they move to the car hand in hand.

"Would you like me to take you back to your hotel?" Tobin asks starting the car.

Christen sighs shaking her head, "no."

Tobin looks at her expectantly before shifting into gear. She doesn’t want to take her back but she’s willing to do whatever she wants. She’s just glad she found her.

Christen leans back in her seat and says, "Take me home please."

Tobin doesn't correct her when she says it. She knows she means to her apartment but she wouldn't mind sharing it with her like that. It's the smile on Christen’s lips that won't let hers fade; they understand each other more than anyone else could.

She's spent the night many times before; they've just never shared her bed.  
  
And Tobin's excited to share it. 

 

//

 

They arrive at her apartment, pull into her parking space and she shifts into park. She doesn’t get out yet. Adjusting her leg, she turns to take her time and look at Christen- thankful that she's here with her.

Christen’s hand is on the handle, about to get out before she notices Tobin not moving. 

"You keep staring…" 

 Tobin rests her elbow against the seat, her head in her hand. " I know..."

Christen responds in kind, staring right back at her. She gets squirmy in her seat with how intense and how thick the air is getting. Her hair sticks to the back of her neck, the must of her sweat, and the grass up her legs becomes highly noticeable. 

 "So, it looks like _you_ got a shower and," she pulls at her shirt, " I need one." 

 "I like you like this," Tobin looks her up and down, “covered in our sport, full of determination." 

 Christen shrugs her shoulders and look out the window. 

 "Hey, don't do that..." She reaches over to place her hand on her arm offering reassurance.

 "Don't disbelieve me when I say things about you, I want you to believe in yourself..." 

 "I do." She looks at her slightly defensive. 

 "I know you do...” Tobin squeezes for affect, “but I need you to know that I do too. I see everything when I look at you. There's no hiding from me, just like I can't hide from you..." 

 Christen places her hand on top of Tobin's and smiles with her eyes. 

 She wants to say more; ask her why she left everyone after the game, and what's on her mind. But she decides to let her talk on her own terms and being there for her is enough.

 

"...Let’s get you cleaned up," she says instead.

 Tobin leaps out of the car, too excited that everything’s going so well. She makes it to the front of the car when she notices Christen hasn't opened her door yet so she quickly jogs over to do it for her.

She sticks out an open hand while bending forward and says, "M’lady."

 Her green eyes glisten at her before she takes her hand and hops down. 

 The pleasant understanding of each other is a blanket of comfort for Tobin. It's nice to have someone who doesn't expect anything other than this— to just be. Her feelings increase in size at every touch. They can have conversations without saying a word. And Tobin is drawn to magic like that; she’s learned how to find it.

 They make it to the door, both bashful and nervously excited about the night. Tobin opens the door, letting her in first when Christen gasps, " I think you've been robbed..." 

 Tobin avidly pulls her behind, shielding her from potential danger and looks around her apartment for any signs of robbery.

 "Um, what makes you say that? I don't think anyone's in here." She says confused. 

 Christen steps around Tobin and looks more carefully: there are sheets trailing through her hallway, clothes on the floor, a lamp knocked over and a few soccer balls scattered around. She realizes her mistake and she turns back to smile endearingly—embarrassed because, of course this is just how Tobin’s apartment is. It looks exactly how Tobin lives her life, all over the place and quite frankly, a mess.

 "I--well, you have-- there's a blanket strewn through your apartment, it just looks a little… topsy turvey in here." She says walking to the broken lamp putting it right side up. 

 "Yeah, I- um," Tobin rushes to pick up the blanket and sheet off the floor, wrapping them up in her arms, hastily walking by Christen and throws them back into her room. "I rushed out the door...and I was playing a game and knocked that lamp over... and—" she puts both hands behind her head, "yeah…this place is a mess. I haven't had time to clean up…" She embarrassingly admits. 

 Christen giggles, walks up to Tobin and wraps her arms around her waste. "Well I think it's adorable." 

 The messy girl lowers her arms bitterly, "what? You think being a slob is adorable?" She says with adorable disdain. 

Chris kisses her pouty lips once then twice, "Yes.”  
  
She abruptly releases her and walks away backwards, “So, how about that shower, Heath."

Tobin takes a deep breath, smelling the grass, sweat and something indescribably Christen linger. She jogs to the entrance of her room, extends her arm inside and in a swirly British accent says, "Right this way M'lady." 

 "Why do you keep acting like a European butler?" She laughs following her lead.

 "I'm being charming!" Tobin follows closely behind, decides to grab her hips with a squeeze. She gets the urge to snarffle in her neck and so she does. 

 "Ah! Tobin, I'm gross!" She runs into her bedroom away from the attack. 

 Tobin slowly walks in after her licking her lips, "you're delicious!" 

 "Wow, you ARE charming." She says while walking backwards to the bathroom. 

 Tobin busies herself trying to make her bed and kick shoes and clothes under her bed. "Towels and wash cloths are in the cabinet and I'll set extra clothes on the chair next to the door." 

 "Thanks M'lawdee," Christen tries to speak British but ends up sounding like an Australian eating peanut butter. 

 Tobin just stares at her with a stupid grin on her face holding her sheets.

 _Damn, she is the cutest person I've ever met._  
  
Looking at her now, she can see the girl who used to pick flowers on the field instead of chasing the ball—all innocent and full of life.

Christen shyly smiles and closes the door.

Tobin quickly looks around, suddenly super conscious of the state of her room, her whole apartment in fact. She wants it to look nice for Christen and this is not the person she thinks she would want to date.

 "Shit," she mumbles before going super speed. She strips her bed of these sheets, grabs a new one and makes work at making it neatly. She kicks everything she can under the bed, throws the rest in her closet, and lights the only scented candle she has—sandalwood. 

 Tobin shuffles through her drawers and finds her comfiest nightclothes. She chooses maroon cotton shorts and an old band shirt her mom gave her—It's her favorite. She wants to share all her favorite things with Christen.

 The shower is still going strong so she sets the clothes on the chair, closes the door behind her and tries to pick up her living room. She stuffs a blanket in the entertainment center, throws the pillows on the couch, frantically assesses and moves to the kitchen. 

 The kitchen isn't that bad, her sink is empty because she hasn't eaten at home lately, but her counters are covered in painting supplies. She's about to just throw it all under the sink when she hears feet patter on the hard wood floor. 

 

"Lynyrd Skynyrd?"

 Tobin turns to find a damp hair goddess in her kitchen. She almost squeaks at the sight of her long legs in _her_ shorts and her bare chest in _her_ shirt. 

 "I didn't expect you to be a fan," Christen says pulling her hair to one shoulder as she inspects the shirt. 

 Tobin clears her thirst, " it's my moms. She gave it to me before my first camp with the national team."

 She turns to continue to clean up, " it was my favorite shirt growing up. I loved to steal it from her closet and wear it to bed. So she gave it to me so I'd have a piece of home with me." 

 The way she tells the story of the shirt’s significance is nonchalant. But Christen feels the importance of her sharing this with her. 

 "You let me wear this?" 

 "I want you to be comfortable..." 

 She chose the most comfortable shirt she had, but it was what the shirt meant to her that made it so comforting and Tobin wanted Christen to be comforted-- to feel the comfort of home. 

 "Thank you," she says softly and sincerely. 

 They stand on the opposite sides of the island, not saying a word or moving toward one another—just staring. There has been a lot of staring between the two of them. But when the world disappears and the relevance of time vanishes, all anyone can do is breathe and stare at the one person holding their heart.

 "So, are you hungry?" Tobin asks after a while. 

 "Starving." 

 "I'm not sure what I have but," she turns to rummage through her cabinets, " but I probably have spaghetti things..." she trails off at the touch of soft hands on her sides, wrapping around her. 

 Tobin stands still with one hand gripping sternly to a pasta box. She feels Christen rest her head between her shoulder blades. But her hands don’t wander, she holds her tight around her waist like she needs something to hold onto. She lets her have a moment before turning in the embrace. Christen doesn’t let her see her face and nuzzles up to her chest. They hug in the middle of the kitchen for a good moment, Tobin rubbing her back. 

 "So..." Tobin turns them towards her cabinet, one arm still wrapped around her. "I have penne pasta and angel hair." She grabs each box and shakes them in front of the girl attached to her hip. 

 "Whatever you want," Christen yields.

 "Let's do angel hair because it's fitting..." 

 Christen lifts her head to give her a dubious look but quickly nuzzles back in. She's attached like a barnacle on a boat.

 Tobin shuffles to the pantry to reach the tomato sauce she knows she has buried somewhere. She snickers when Christen doesn't loosen her grip and scoots with her. 

 "You comfortable?" 

 Christen nods her head and shuffles with her toward the stove. 

 Tobin doesn't make her move or release her arm from around her. She just quietly hums while making the pasta and heating up the sauce. Tobin knows she'll talk when she wants to and she's enjoying a cuddly Christen anyway, so what’s the rush? 

 She takes them to the table and pulls a chair out, "I'm going to drain the noodles and I might hurt this pretty face if I use one hand." She says lightly pinching her cheek.

 Christen smiles and takes her seat abashedly. 

 Tobin stands by her side for a beat to rub her back and twirl a piece of her hair—she wants to make sure she’s okay before leaving her side.

 "I'll be right back," she assures.

 She pours two glasses of water and makes two bowls of plain spaghetti. She delivers Christen's first, setting it down in front of her. She touches her shoulder, Tobin can tell something’s bothering her but she doesn't pry. It's something that she tries to do with everyone and their business, leave them be. If they ask for advice she'll give it, if they ask for her opinion she'll give it, but if not asked or prompted she tends to stay quiet. Everyone has things they want to keep to themselves, she thinks more people should leave things to mystery but it’s not her concern.

 Except now—now she wants to ask, prod and pry. She wants to know why she lied to her. She wants to know every single thing that's running through Christen’s mind but she eats her spaghetti instead. 

 Christen eats silently too. She seems distracted and hungry. After she finishes her spaghetti, she chugs her water and then sits back in her chair. 

 Tobin slurps a few angel hairs up into her mouth, one unruly noodle slapping her chin on the way in, and watches Christen while she wipes her face. 

 "Full?" 

Christen smiles into the stretch, reaching her hands up over her head, “yeahhh.”

 Tobin smiles in return but it falls when she sees her tan stomach peeking out under the shirt.  
  
_She looks so smooth._

 Tobin clears her mind and quickly gets up to do the same to the table, desperate to busy her hands. She grabs her bowl and walks over to grab Christen's. 

 "That good huh?" She flirts (she couldn’t help herself).

 Christen smiles up at her with a full happy draw to her lips, "it was yummy." 

 "You got a little," Tobin reaches out and wipes her chin, "sauce right here." Her voice is soft and cozy. 

 The frown that spreads across Christen's face is so cute but not as cute as the dumb look she gets when Tobin sucks her thumb into her mouth. It tastes like sauce but she wishes it had carried a little Christen with it. She craves to know. 

 Satisfied with the reaction, she grabs the bowls and makes her way to the sink. Tobin rinses them out before placing them in the dishwasher and when she turns around she's confused to find an empty chair at the table. 

 

"Chris?" 

 

Tobin looks around in the living room then heads to her bedroom. It's dark but she sees a lump in her bed. She strolls over to the lump and sits next to it. 

 

"Chris?" 

 

The lump emerges as a gorgeous girl, "I'm sorry, I just got so sleepy." She rolls over on her back and yawns. 

 "It's ok, you just get some rest." Tobin pats her leg and gets up. 

She needs to get changed, brush her teeth and wash her face. But before she gets a chance to disappear in the bathroom Christen says, "hurry back, I need you." 

 Tobin looks back, sees the sadness of grey in her eyes and nods once before turning into the bathroom determined to get back to them.

 She's hoping Christen hasn't fallen asleep yet.  
  
Tobin wants her to know she rushed to get back to her.  
  
She gets her answer when she scoots under the covers; Christen rolls over and attaches herself to Tobin's side as soon as she got settled.

 The way that she nuzzles into her chest feels wonderful. It's a feeling that she can't forget, one that she thinks people chase their whole lives to feel. At least it feels that way. She hasn’t felt this before, this click. It’s as if she’s experiencing discovery over and over again, each time a new.  
  
Something settles inside of her at the thought of it all and she wraps her arms around Christen satisfied in this experience. She’ll gladly exist with her while they sleep.  
  
She closes her eyes but seconds after Christen speaks.

" I just left..." 

 Tobin opens her eyes, unsure if she heard her right. She rubs her back to let her know she's listening. 

 "They flew all the way out here to see me," Christen shifts mindlessly pushing her hand under Tobin's shirt to rest it on her stomach," and I just left." 

 Tobin tries to control her breathing and respond but the distracting ministrations of her fingers are causing misfires in her brain. 

 "I wasn't thinking and I feel terrible,” she continues despite Tobin’s silence.

 Christen’s breath feels ragged on her chest and she squeezes her closer. Tobin let's her vent but holds her sturdy. She allows the comfort to permeate through her bones before speaking.

 "It's ok," Tobin assures, "you needed time." 

 "Yeah but I feel like I let them down," Christen leans back to look into warm hazel eyes, "I told them I would see them after the game." 

 "Who? Taylor and Carey?" 

 She nods.

 "Aw, Chris..." Tobin pulls her back down, "they understand how it goes. It wasn't their first away game to see you was it?" 

 Christen shakes her head, "No, Jeff and Rhonda have been bringing them since Taylor was a baby." 

 "Ok, then they know that we all have games where recovery time is needed. Sometimes it's immediately after the match." 

 "Yeah but—

 "You know what you can do now? I'm going to send those girls some Portland gear soon, so why don't you send some stuff too. Write a letter or sign a picture, I bet they'd like a personal gift and I'm sure you'd feel better after you reach out—

 In the middle of her suggestion, Christen lifts up and entraps her in a kiss. It's a one noted kiss, something with purpose, a kiss that says... 

 "Thank you," Christen delivers against her lips. 

 "Mmm," is all Tobin can muster; Christen's leg is pushing against her in all the right ways. She's not sure she even knows that she's doing it but Tobin's not going to say anything. 

 "You taste like spaghetti," she comments before leaning in for more but she doesn't find awaiting lips. In fact, she opens her eyes to a closing bathroom door.

 "Christen?" 

   
"I'm so sorry! I forgot to brush my teeth!" She calls through the door. She quickly opens the door with a toothbrush hanging out of her mouth, apologizing further with her eyes. 

 "It's ok, but... is that... my toothbrush?" Tobin smiles. She’s amused at the foam forming at the corners of her mouth but happy that she feels comfortable enough to use her toothbrush.

 Christen shrugs her shoulders, "yaw, is thaht ohkay?" 

 "Of course, but you didn't have to brush your teeth. I didn't mind." Tobin lies back on her arms so she can watch.

 "I yoo, I mine! I mean I dawn want yew to tashte shpagheddee. Thas grosh!" 

 Christen swivels back into the bathroom to spit and rinse, scurries under the covers seeking warmth and scoots back into Tobin's side. 

 "All better," she whispers against Tobin's cheek. 

 "Are you?" Tobin shifts so now they're facing each other. Her smile increases at the sight of her eyes, a little green in them now. 

 "Yeah, I will be." 

 "You're always the best version of yourself. And all we can do every day is learn how to be better tomorrow." Tobin kisses her forehead and snuggles close, wrapping both arms around her making Christen little spoon. 

 " So, let's rest and be better tomorrow." 

 Tobin wants to ask her why she lied but it doesn't matter at this moment. She'll ask her tomorrow.   
But when tomorrow comes she doesn't get that chance. 

 She wakes up thinking it was all a dream. It was picture perfect, the way she swooped her up from the pitch, the way they cooked together, all the way to bed where they found solidarity. 

 Tobin thought they'd have the day to talk and figure out how the next few weeks will go—after semi finals—after finals. 

 Her Lynyrd Skynyrd shirt and maroon shorts are folded neatly on the chair with a small piece of paper on top. Tobin bounds out of bed, heart in her throat, and snatches the note up to read. 

 

_T-_

_Thank you for being there for me. I'm off to LA for rehab on my ankles before the semis._  
  
_No goodbyes, next time just more hello._

_-C_

   
At least she left a note. But it still feels like she snuck out in the middle of the night; it still feels like she's missing something. Unconsciously, she wants the chance to physically remember and absorb everything she can before letting go. So the feeling she has is her grasping at the fading memory of the night before.

 With their lives, the only definitive time she’ll see her again is at the finals or at camp.

 Now that she let herself feel for Christen, it can't be governed. She can try to split her heart between the love of football and the love of a girl, but it would just tear her down the middle— it _was_ tearing her down the middle. If she has the possibility to balance the two, weave them together like God has laid them out for her, then she can create her happiness from that. 

 And so she will try. 

 Tobin reads the letter two more times before going to her closet, stands on her tiptoes, and pulls down an old Nike shoebox. But instead of the classic bright orange color they come in, she's spray painted it pink so that it looks like a sunset. 

 She places the note inside, closes the lid and puts it back high in her closet. 

 Maybe she was telling her the truth and had to leave today before her team. Tobin really liked the facility and staff out in LA, and if Christen had to choose between the two she'd choose California every time. 

 

 

~*~

 

 

"I'm happy you came."

"Yeah, well I told you I would."

"Still, I'm surprised."

Christen leans back and waits already upset that she had to leave a warm bed to be here.  
  
She hisses at the pain.

"Shh, you baby. It's just ice, we need to give you this massage and then we will run some tests and do electro."

"Geez Von, What is this your first day?" Christen jests.

"You wouldn't be here if you didn't like it."

Christen closes her eyes and leans back, "you do good work, fix me like you do..."

Von grins and continues her healing. Christen comes to this clinic any chance she gets, she can stop by to see family and they've always done a great job with her contusions. She wants to be ready for the next game because she knows she'll be playing the full 90. And if her team wants a chance at the Championship, then she has to be at her best.

But it's not her ankles that are bothering her the most; it's the little seed of doubt that gets her. With the way her team is playing and the decisions that are being made, it doesn't give her much faith. It's sad to think about but it's the truth. She can only play as hard as she can during the minutes she's given and she can't play every position.

After the game, Rory tried convincing the team that this is their chance, that this was a good plan and that they'll reach the finals. But Christen could already feel the broken spirits and detached team all around her. That upset her more than losing—the loss of connection.

She'll go down fighting anyway and Von is her favorite trainer. She's always tough yet kind and she does the best work.

"So, tough loss the other day." Von comments trading ankles.

Christen cracks one eye open and finds blue ones staring back decorated with a sly grin.

"What loss, didn't you hear? The game was cancelled." She says shutting her eye.

"Oh yeah, I did hear something about the championships being called off— totally cancelled—completely shutdown."

Christen genuinely laughs, "so you have heard."

"I hear a lot of things..."

This time Christen opens both eyes, " oh yeah? And what kind of things do you hear?"

"Oh this and that, I get a lot of you girls in here wanting the mightiest touch and my ears aren't starving, I can truly say."

Von is someone that fills the room with a good time. She calms players with her ability to heal and her joy for life. It radiates from her unto them and they leave physically and mentally better. It's probably why Christen likes her so much.

"Von, can I ask you something?"

The trainer looks up and catches on to the serious tone quickly, "Of course."

Christen leans her head back against the wall and shuts her eyes again. 

"Well, there's this girl..."

Von smiles to herself because she already suspects who this girl is, she reads The Pitch.

"And?"

"And she's completely.... like... ugh" Christen's grunts and squeezes her knees together.

"She's that good huh?" Von corrects her leg position to continue treatment.

"Oh, Sorry. Yeah, I mean we haven't—but I don't know when _is_ the appropriate time to do it because we've known each other for a _long_ time but it's different now. Like _so_ different, and it's hard to control anything while I'm around her so I find myself acting in extremes." She takes a deep breath, not realizing how bad she's rambling.

She finds Von looking up at her with a knowing look in her eyes.

"I've known you for three years now and I can tell you're struggling, so I'm not going to tease you about how Bambi you're being right now but... if it's that great, just being together, it'll happen when you both know it. And even if it's not all candles and doves, it'll be great the second and third and fourth time... "

"Once you start though, you won't stop." She warns with mirth.

Christen just stares at her with wide eyes, "oh you..." she lightly whacks her arm.

Her back hits the wall with a sigh; "you know...she ignored me for 6 months before this."

"Whoa," Von sits up, “what was her reason?"

"Recovery."

The timeline confirms Von's suspicions but she doesn't say anything.

"I see—"

"And career," Christen adds.

"That's too common, people thinking they have to choose between their career and a social life. Both are validating and fulfilling but the value of life is in finding the moments that make it worth the struggle."

Von gets up, takes her gloves off and grabs a towel. She begins wiping her ankles and feet. 

"And struggle is inevitable...I've learned that it's about finding meaning in that struggle and finding someone to go through it with you."

Von offers her the towel to continue drying off. Christen thinks on her words while dabbing her leg.

"Can I take you to Portland and have you say that to her?" She jokes.

"Portland huh?" She's given it away now and Von just smiles at her.

Christen winces at her slip up but honestly she doesn't mind if Von knows, in fact she's dying to tell someone. 

 

"It's Tobin."

"I know..." Von shrugs and turns around to grab electrode pads.

"You know?! Don't tell me you read into all the gossip."

"No! But my wife does, so guilty by proxy?"

"Von! Tell her half that stuff is garbage. I can't do anything without it spreading into ten different stories. Tobin and I can't go out together without people taking pictures and half the time it makes it awkward... gosh no wonder Tobin was trying to avoid me..." she slumps and lifts her knees up into her chest.

"Hey now, none of that..." Von chastises while pulling her legs straight again. "She's probably afraid just like you of what's happening and every decision you both make is under a microscope. I bet," she places electrode pads on her ankles and feet, "that she tried to see if she could _not_ be with you."

"Why would she do that?"

Von takes a deep breath, "Maybe to make sure her feelings are valid? Or that she wouldn't want to run in the middle of it?"

Christen thinks about it—dwells on it even.

Von let's her think as she attaches the machine and begins her treatment.

"Chris..."

She's chewing on her lip, too deep in thought to hear her. Von tries again, "Christen?"

"Hmm?" She responds distractingly.

"Tell me how she's acting _now_. Not how she _was_."

Her smile is instant at the thought of how caring and adorable she's been.

"You see? That's what's important— the feeling you have when you're with her and the moments you have moving forward."

"But—"

"Ay mi'ja, no buts about nada. I don't see reason to live life in doubts and hesitate and bullshit your way into regret. Love is everything—risk it all... In the end you'll be glad you did."

Christen looks at her like she wants to make excuses, express all her anxieties and have them healed. Von has always been a sturdy rock and she's easy to talk to about anything. She's been leaping at every moment, going against what every voice in her is saying to do. Tobin might as well be her exact opposite: unorganized, spontaneous, effortless, relaxed, and naturally good at everything.

She wants it to be like a puzzle piece but she knows life isn't like that. It's chaos, a random collision of particles and atoms, and destiny is not something Christen believes in. She's had to work hard at anything that's gone right and she knows she'll have to work hard at this too. 

 

//

 

Tobin wrinkles her nose.

"Harry I tried it once already, I don't want another sip."

She avoids the thick straw in her face like the plague; it's green mixture falling back down the tube into the ice vat it came from. They're at Starbucks, getting drinks and catching up. Allie invited her out because she feels they haven't been their usual selves.

"I think matcha is delicious!" She says slurping another gulp of the stuff.

Tobin sips on her iced coffee, content in its simple milk and sugar mixture. She knows this talk was coming so she just waits for her to broach the subject.

"Did you hear about Alex? Her and Serv are fighting again..." Allie looks at her for a response.

 She isn't sure what she wants her to say. It's not her business and she told Alex what she thought and that was that.

"No I didn't."

Allie looks at her moments longer, “Anyway, have you talked to Christen? I hear they leave tomorrow."

"You hear a lot of things..." Tobin says biting her straw.

"Are you mad at me or something? Because you've been brushing me off lately and during your recover you were mean to me. Now you act like... like I did something wrong!"

She can feel the heat of her eyes but she refuses to look. She's mad, partly because she's the one who convinced her to focus on football and then she tries to force her to talk to Christen. She's always so involved in her life and Tobin's trying to figure out why. Why is Allie so determined to be so involved in everything?

"Because you're so involved!"

Allie looks at her dumbfounded, "what do you mean?"

"You-," Tobin sets her empty cup on the table between them. They sit in the back of the shop in two comfy regal chairs. It's not busy but she wishes it were with how quiet it is, despite the holiday music already playing on loop. "You always have something to say about what I should do or what I shouldn't."

When she doesn't say anything she knows she has to keep going because she's hurting her feelings now. Tobin knows it, but ever since they've become best friends, Allie has always had a particular interest in what she's doing.

It didn't bother her before but now it's affecting her life in a way she isn't sure she wants.

"I appreciate you taking care in the things I do... you've looked out for me and helped me get through some stuff but..."

"But what Tobin?" Allie's nostrils flare.

"But you're too involved in my life. I don't need you to tell me to focus on recovery and 'ignore certain distractions' and then later force me to interact with Christen when your advice created the drama in the first place." Now, she feels anger. It's like Allie thrives on the drama of Tobin's life. She loves Allie like a sister, she will always be her Harry but right now she questions her motives. She wonders if she really has her best interests at heart.

"I don't know how to act around you anymore because I'm upset with you."

Allie scoots to the edge of her seat, "about what?! About caring too much about you! Or about trying to help you when you need it?!"

Tobin rests her head back, hitting the green velvet.

She doesn't like to fight, especially not with Allie.  
  
Maybe Tobin avoids things until it's too late but she's a ‘if it happens it happens’ kind of person. She's not one to insert herself or force a situation. Some would say she's quiet and laid back but Tobin doesn't just sit idle and let life cruise by in front of her. She observes, learns, studies and reads. Her interests lie in enjoying the present moment, not thinking too much of the future and letting the past go.

She knows Allie likes to think of the future—for everyone.

She looks over at her best friend, she's hurt her and she knows it. Allie looks straight ahead. "You've always been there for me... and I know that. I appreciate you more than anyone.  I just feel like when you suggest things and twist a situation until something happens, preferably the outcome you want, it's too much."

When Allie still won’t look at her she continues.

"What I mean is, your advice is always irrefutable. You believe it's the best course of action and you do—you believe it with every fiber of your being so you make it happen. But the thing is—it's coming from the right place—it's just that it's not your path to take."

Allie is silently looking straight ahead, her hands folded on her lap. 

"This is me, coming to you with—

"You didn't come to me." Her voice is thick with pained anger.  
  
Tobin understands how she feels. It hurts to be told by someone you love that you aren't loving them right.

"I had to drag it out of you like everything else. You wouldn't talk to me Tobin. You kept it all in—you always keep it all in. And how am I—" she leans back in her chair biting her tongue.

"You're right," Tobin offers, "I'm not easy to be close to."

She rests her elbows on her knees as she searches for her next words, "What I'm trying to say is...you're my best friend and I've had some time to think about things...and after that night you texted Christen for me—it reminded me that it's something you tend to do."

She looks at Allie solidly, " I love you for it but I want to be close to you again. I want to feel comfortable enough around you to relax...That regardless of what you want to happen, let it happen naturally." 

After a few moments of silence, Allie stands up and says one word, "Ok." 

She grabs her matcha tea and walks out. 

Tobin grabs both arm rests, sits straight up pushing her back against the tufted support and says one word in response, "Fuck."  

 

 


End file.
